To the Gates of Hell
by Qualinesti
Summary: With any luck, Chapter 8 is back, fully formatted. I can't even remember how to summarize this anymore! Continues the story that follows Diablo2 pretty closely (at least, act 2) with a necromancer currently being the central character. Sounds exciting
1. First Meetings

**Disclaimers, and such.**

I don't own Diablo II, or any of the characters, or places I used in this fic. They belong to Blizzard, not me, though I would think that was fairly obvious to anyone who has played the game. Onward.

 Firiel is my own sorceress, Az'Ral is mine, Iconnus is mine and Darkangel I met on Battle.net. Well, she was spelled DaRkAnGeL, but the basic idea is the same, so credit goes to her creator (I don't know his real name) anyway.

And so, without further ado…..

To the Gates of Hell

(if you don't like the title, tell me! I KNOW its lame, I am just not the most creative person in the world! That having been said…)

            The rickety caravan finally stopped moving, after making its way through the gates of Lut Gholein, the "Shining Jewel of the East".  A tall, dark figure wrapped in a cloak slowly made its way out, careful not to fall over after the long, bumpy ride in the caravan.  He searched for a moment in his cloak, and withdrew some coins with which to pay for his passage west.  Finally, he was here…he gave a sigh of relief.

            He was a necromancer, called Az'Ral by those who called him anything other than a curse.  This necromancer was tall and thin, like many of his kind, and younger than people normally thought necromancers to be.  The dark cloak he wore covered the armor that he almost never revealed, for it showed clearly what he was.  Necromancers were not widely accepted with open arms and joyful smiles. The hood to his cloak was down, however, showing his young face and short white hair, which had two streaks of black running through it.  Obviously, he could not appear _too_ secretive.

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            Az'Ral had heard news of Diablo's coming to the deserts, as well as the rumors of his brother, Baal.  However, he could care less.  The resurrection of the Prime Evils _did _threaten the Great Cycle of Being, but there were others to see to that aspect of the necromancers' religion.  He had other things to do.  The mage had made his way to Lut Gholein after hearing "frightening" tales of a Greater Mummy, by the name of Radament.  After all, Az'Ral's quest was not for fame or glory.  There were almost certainly scrolls to be had, as well as artifacts and potions.  All he had to do was to find its lair.  After asking a few simple questions (actually, it was as simple as listening to Atma.  No questions needed to be asked) he got a general idea of where the creature could be found.

            As he descended down through the sewers, Az'Ral noticed one very, very odd thing.  There were plenty of undead, as was to be expected.  Except that they were _dead_. Lifeless.  And they were recently killed as well.  Many of the bodies were blackened as if by fire, and there was cold water on the floor.  But there was total silence.  Once in a while, he could hear small scuffing noises in the gloom behind him, but they were too quick to be undead, and too fast to be human.  _They must be rats_, he thought. _What else could they be? _Still, something did not feel right.  There was something else as well in these dark, dripping sewers.  Scorching hot, and freezing cold at once, the air tasted strongly of mana.  Not something one normally expected in the sewers beneath a desert city.

Many of the confused necromancer's questions were answered, however, as he descended to a third level of sewers. Hearing the sounds of a battle nearby, he grabbed his weapon, and ran onward.  Small dagger in hand, he turned a corner, and there he saw the sorceress, desperately holding a virtual tidal wave of undead off a battered form on the ground behind her.  She was in the midst of casting a spell, her arms above her head, long raven hair waving wildly, as fire crackled up her sides, sinking into the ground to appear in front of her as a wall of intense heat and flame.  Skeletons crumbled to ash under the sorceress's fiery wrath.  The two mages spotted Radament at the same time, the sorceress immediately throwing orbs of flame and ice at the greater mummy. Az'Ral summoned spirits from the crushed bones on the ground, and sent them screaming after the Radament, as the last blast of freezing ice impacted on the decaying body of the mummy, shattering its chest into tiny fragments of quickly melting ice.   What was left of it toppled to the floor, in a gruesome pile of rotting flesh and tattered rags.  The sorceress whirled around to face this newest threat, determined to save her friend, exhausted as she was.

"Nice aim, evil one," she said through clenched teeth, to the none-too-surprised necromancer. "You had tracking spirits, and you _still_ hit the wrong target."

"Please, believe me, I am not your enemy.  I came for Radament, not you." He replied wearily. People were all the same: take one look at you, and assume the worst.

"Really." She said, sapphire eyes blazing with icy light.  Her empty hands began to glow, but the firestorm that would have ensued was interrupted by a groan from her fallen companion.  She turned to away from Az'Ral.  "Damn!" she cursed, rushing over to the large form on the ground. "No! I don't have any more potions!"

"I do", came the quiet whisper of the necromancer's voice. "Here, please take them, I have extra." Az'Ral tossed her three potions, two bright red, and one sparkling blue. "Take them, you look like you could use the mana."  The sorceress caught the potions, and, uncorking them, smelled the contents_.  So he's not lying_ she thought.  _Hmm…_She drank the smaller healing potion, as well as the mana, and then turned away to help her friend.

Az'Ral also turned his back, walking deeper into Radament's lair, hoping to find something of value (to a necromancer, at least).  "Damn.  Nothing.  All this for nothing," he muttered to himself.  He walked over to Radament's twice-dead corpse and knelt, looking for scrolls or spell components, anything to tell him what the mummy was doing, how, and why.  But there was nothing.  Nothing.  But then he caught sight of a small chest in a corner, dimly lit as if from the inside.  The necromancer rose, running a hand through his short hair, bone and black metal armor rasping together.  Opening the chest, he found a scroll, dirty and molded.  "Well, perhaps this wasn't for nothing after all." he whispered to himself.  The dark mage tucked the scroll into his belt and turned to leave, only to find the sorceress and her companion blocking his way out.

"Alright, dark one, who are you? Why are you here, and why did you help us?" the sorceress demanded angrily. Az'Ral sighed.  _Here we go again_, he thought to himself.

"My name is Az'Ral. I am a necromancer from the ancient city of Rathma. I'm here looking for information, and since I haven't found any, I'm leaving. I helped you because you needed help.  Now, sorceress, would you mind answering your questions for _me?_" he answered, his soft, usually calm voice edged with anger.

"I…I'm Firiel, and this is my companion, Rage." She said, nodding to the barbarian at her side.  "We were sent down here to kill Radament, which we've done. Aaahhh...thank you for the help, by the way."  She paused for a moment.  "So, um…where will you go now, since Radament is dead?"

            "Is there somewhere I _need_ to go?"

            "Well, where were you planning on going? Surely you're not going to _live_ down here.  But then again…" she smiled. I guess what I'm saying is, 'You don't seem to have anywhere you _need_ to be at the moment, otherwise, you would be there, so will you join us on our quest?'"

            "Which would be…?"

            "We're…we're going to kill Baal, before Diablo sets him free.  I know it sounds all grand, and probably pretty stupid to a necromancer, but we are.  At least, the two of us are. Me and Rage here." Rage waved.

            There's more of you?" the startled necromancer asked, turning around.

            "Well, right now, its just me and Rage.  Iconnus, Darkangel, and Spirit Wing, a Valkyrie, are joining up with us later. Assuming they get out of that jungle alive…" she trailed off, mumbling.

            "Jungle?" asked Az'Ral in surprise.

            "Kehjistan.  Kurast.  Travincal. Surely you've heard of them.  Since the coming of the Prime evils, and, more specifically, Mephisto, the jungles around Kurast have literally taken over.  Since Darkangel is an Amazon, and used to jungle fighting, she went along with Iconnus to help free Kurast and deal with Mephisto. As Iconnus is a paladin, the corruption of the Temple City and Zakarum has worried him greatly."

            "I'll bet it has…" muttered the necromancer sarcastically.  "Troubles _me_ as well.  I've been gone for far too long…wait, a _paladin? _Yes, I should have known it would be a paladin responsible for this… _crusade_. Idealistic fools.  I suppose he couldn't resist being the hero and 'saving Kurast from a plague of evil', could he?"

            "How _DARE_ you!" screamed Firiel.  "I've barely met you, barely know you, you know _nothing _of my friends, _or_ me and yet you insult Iconnus, a paladin, my friend, simply for being what he is!!  What of you, dark necromancer?  What shall I say of you? I should have-" 

            "Please, stop this!" came a strong, commanding voice. It was Rage, who had standing, forgotten, by the enraged sorceress's side, listening to every word, shaking his head.  "We may barely know each other," he began, calmly. "But you have helped each other and we seem to be on the same side.  Our quest is a difficult one, and if we do not accept help where we find it, we may not succeed.  This man has saved my life, as well as yours, and we should be beyond suspecting each other of dark plots and hidden motives, though we came here for different reasons.  I owe him my life, and I'm not going to forget that debt over a foolish argument about Iconnus!!  Listen to me, Firiel.  I've trusted him this far, and I'm willing to go further. Aren't you?"  Silence followed the barbarian's speech.

            Firiel smiled. "You are right, I suppose."  She turned to Az'Ral and extended her slim hand, as if greeting the mage for the first time.

            "Greetings, Az'Ral of Rathma. I am Firiel, of the Zann Esu, and this is my companion, Rage, of Arreat.  Will you join us on our quests?"

            Az'Ral took her hand in his own, his hard expression fading into a smile of his own. _Well, I may find something of value in Tal Rasha's tomb.  It can't hurt to stick around a little longer, _he thought.  "I thank you, Firiel of the Zann Esu. I accept your offer of alliance." He then went into a large, sweeping bow, which soon had everyone laughing.

            The barbarian of the little party, never being one for prolonged negotiations, winked at both Az'Ral and Firiel, then wrapped them both in a huge hug, sealing the deal.

            "Well…there you have it," said the necromancer, slightly embarrassed at having been hugged by a man twice his size, along with a beautiful woman. "I guess I come with you. Still…I may have to have a word with this paladin friend of yours." He added, grinning.

            "Uh…later", said Rage quickly.  The three companions had another laugh.  Then they walked, together, out of the damp sewers into the bright sun of Lut Gholein's streets.

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However, none of the three friends noticed the pair of bright eyes in the shadows behind them.  No one heard the quick flutter of stealthy movement over the drips of water and the squeaks of rats.  No one saw as the creature following them revealed itself, then melted back into the shadows, silent as before.  Silent as death.

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As they emerged into the streets of the city, triumphant, all three members of the newly modified party had to cover their eyes against the blazing high-noon sun.

            "Well, I don't know about the two of you, but this is too much for me. I have to get out of this light, especially after those sewers." Az'Ral said, bringing up a pale hand to shield his face. "Where do you find an inn in this city?"

            "Well, my little friend, that is what Elzix is for," said Rage, clapping Az'Ral on the shoulder with a large hand.  The thin necromancer's legs buckled. "Coming Firiel?" Rage taunted.

            "Well, someone has to make sure you don't hurt yourself, or kill our necromancer friend!" she replied with a grin. "Let's go!"

            "Yes, let's," muttered the mage, regaining his footing. "I would hate to have to embarrass you in front of all these people.  It would be very sad for a barbarian like you to be beat by a 'weakling necromancer' as I've heard us called."

            "Yes, it would." replied Rage.  "Which is exactly why it's not going to happen." he finished, picking up Az'Ral and starting toward Elzix's inn.

            "Hey!" he yelled in protest. "You barbarians are crazy!  Put me _down_, dammit! Don't make me hurt you!  Okay, that's it, you have been warned. Firiel! Ahh! Help!"

_I have to see this_, thought Firiel. She followed, barely able to see through the tears of laughter welling up in her eyes_.  I could almost feel sorry for him…almost.  What have I gotten myself into?_

            Alright, so there it is.  The first part.  Since you've suffered through this much already, why don't you review this for me?  Come, on, I'm only asking for like 10 seconds of your time.  Even if you hated it. I don't care.  Just review. Also, as I may have mentioned before, I don't really know where this story is going, if anywhere.  So, if you would be so kind as to e-mail me at Liarel_the_Sorceress@yahoo.com, (or message me if you have yahoo messenger) with an idea or two, I will happily try to add it in, and give you full credit for your idea if I do.  I have something of a second chapter ready, but I will NOT go through all the trouble of typing it up if you all want to throw assorted fruits and vegetables at me for writing this. Not that I don't LIKE fruits and vegetables, it's just the idea.  SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!! Ok, 'nuff said, back to _playing_ this game.


	2. The Plot Thickens

More Disclaimers, and Such: bout the same as part 1's disclaimers and such. Um…yessss. I assume that you've played Diablo2 and know something about the expansion to it (as stated in my profile), so…..there you have it.  If you don't understand something, for whatever reason, you can e-mail me and I'll do my best to explain it.  Please forgive me if I make little to no sense.  I tend to do that a lot. 

Once again, onward.

Part 2 

            Firiel was pacing the room again, muttering, and it was getting annoying.  In all the time that Rage had known her, she had never acted like this before, and he was getting worried.  He stopped sharpening his swords and looked up at her.

            "Alright, come on, what's the big problem?" he asked.  "Something's been bothering you these past two days, and it's making it very hard to concentrate on anything with you muttering to yourself and wandering around! We just don't have enough space for you to keep doing this! Feel free to wander around town if you need to wander."

            "I'm sorry, Rage," said the frustrated sorceress. "It's just that we're running out of time. We have to get to Baal before Diablo does, remember?"

            "Yeeeaaahhhhh……and?"

            "I've been talking to Drognan and Cain.  In order to get to Baal, first we need to get into Tal Rasha's tomb.  But to do that, we need a Horadric staff.  But to get a staff we need the pieces, and to get the pieces we need to know where to find them, and to know where to find them we need-"

            "Damn!"

            Firiel's tirade was interrupted by a blinding flash of light, and a curse from Az'Ral. He _had _been sitting at the small table, but was now standing up, holding a glowing, smoking, and almost flaming piece of parchment.

            "Why, why, _why _couldn't the damned Horadrim write in something legible?! Nooo, they have to have their own little runes and everything!" he stopped waving the scroll and looked at his to staring companions. "Oh, sorry. Keep on with whatever you two were talking about, I didn't mean to inter--"

            "Did you say Horadrim?" Firiel interrupted.

            "Yeah? So? They can't write. _You _want to try reading this?" the necromancer asked, tossing the scroll to Firiel." I've tried everything I can think of to translate it, but nothing works. This time the thing flared up, and nearly caught fire."

            "Can I have this? Thanks. Bye, people, see you all later." She teleported herself out of the building.

            "What the…sure, be my guest.  Rage, is she always this…excitable?" asked Az'Ral, slightly bewildered.

            "No, she's been acting strange ever since…since we met you, actually." Came the barbarian's reply.

            "That's reassuring."

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      The silent creature who had listened to the trio's conversation was satisfied.  She had chosen well.  These three showed potential, and if the exchange they had in the sewers was any indication, the other two were just as powerful.  Yes, she _had _chosen well in following this group.  The creature slipped off after the sorceress, silent as the shadows around her.

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            Firiel returned several hours later, much happier but no less excited.

            "What's happening?" asked Rage. "When you left, you were nowhere near this happy.  So what's changed?"

            "Weeeeeeelllll," she said, "two things, actually.  First, we can finally, after two days of doing nothing we can finally get on with our quest.  Az'Ral's scroll is really a Horadric scroll.  It tells us where we need to go to collect the staff pieces, as well as the 'cube' used to unite them.  First, we need to get the cube.  Which means tombs. Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of tombs.  I don't like tombs. I'm sure Az'Ral does. Lots of Undead. Ughh...tombs…"

            "Uh, Firiel?" Rage broke in. "Sorry to interrupt, but I believe there were _two_ things? I've only heard one."

            "Oh, I did get a bit off track, didn't I? Anyway, the second thing is that we cant actually be on our way for three more days." She said, still looking very happy.

            "And this is a good thing?" asked Rage incredulously.

            "Yes," mumbled Az'Ral from his corner. Rage shot him a funny look, but as the necromancer was busy scribbling something on another piece of parchment, he didn't notice. He looked like he was concentrating on figuring something out.

            "What the hell are you doing that is so damn important? Never mind, I don't want to know. Necromancers. Never make any sense--"

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" 

 "--Please continue, _Firiel_.  Why should we wait for three days before beginning on our quest?"

            "Well, in three days, a trade ship is coming in. it will be the last one to come in for a while, and it wont have much in the way of goods for trading.  Still, it's worth our while to wait for the ship." She said, wanting to drag it out, mostly because she also wanted to irritate Rage.

            "Well, why wait?!? We have all the equipment we'll need, and we can't waste our time on the slim chance that there will be something good! Just tell me!" Rage was definitely irritated.

            "Yes, just tell him." Said Az'Ral calmly. "It's rather hard to concentrate on anything with a barbarian yelling. Funny as it may be…"

            "Shut up, necromancer."

            "Hehe." Az'Ral added, and turned back to his work, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

            "Annnyyywwaaaaaayyy…" Rage began again, ignoring the necromancer's snickering. "We should wait for an empty trade ship because?"

            Because they're coming back!" Firiel said happily. " Iconnus, Darkangel, and Spirit Wing are coming back!  I don't know why, and I'm sure they'll tell us, but they're coming back!!!

            Rage replied to this news with a spreading grin across his broad face.  Meanwhile, strange gurgling and sputtering sounds seemed to come from Az'Ral.  Both Firiel and Rage found this extremely funny.  The necromancer didn't.

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            The dark creature was pleased.  Soon, she would have all five of the group together.  Six, if one counted the amazon's Valkyrie. _Yes, the Valkyrie must not be forgotten, _she thought to herself _But still, I need a way to test them.  I must be sure of their worth.  If they do pose as serious a threat to the Three as I think they do…well, one must be sure.  Mistakes cannot be tolerated, nor easily fixed._  She pulled her long, black cloak around her, then dropped from her hiding place on the roof down to the city's streets. "Three days.  In three days, I will return, and then we shall see how strong you truly are." She said quietly, looking up at the group's window.  Then, with all the grace of a cat, she quickly sprinted off, to the gates of the city, her concealing cloak billowing behind her.  As soon as she was sure that the guards really _were_ sleeping, she hopped up  to the roof of a building, and then over the walls of the city.  She made no sound.

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            After three days had passed, the little group of three went out to the docks to meet the new arrivals. Az'Ral was somewhat less than willing. The whole thing went rather well, considering that Iconnus was certainly not expecting, nor pleased, to see that a necromancer had joined them.  Naturally, Az'Ral was not exactly thrilled either.  There wasn't a single word spoken between the two of them, but it was obvious what they were both thinking._ Why me? What have I done to deserve this?_ In other words, if looks could kill, they would have both died instantly.  Introductions took place, for the benefit of Iconnus and Darkangel.  Spirit Wing stood to the side, silent.  Firiel and Rage held their breaths as Az'Ral and Iconnus approached each other and grimly shook hands in "appropriate greeting".

            "Iconnus," said Az'Ral, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

            "Necromancer," Iconnus spat, refusing to say Az'Ral's name.

            Darkangel looked on with amusement.  "Well," she said to Iconnus, suppressing a snicker. "If you are finished with glaring at our newest member, we can get on with the rest of this happy little reunion and doing what we're here to do! Firiel, Rage. Its good to see you two again!" the amazon shifted her throwing spear into her shield hand and gave Firiel a half-hug. Then she pulled away. "But we're going to need to talk.  I _would_ like to know how you came across a necromancer, and I'm sure Sir Righteous would agree with me!" she said this quietly, thought she really didn't have to bother, as Iconnus and Az'Ral were still glaring at each other, not paying attention to anything else.

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            This time, the creature who had been shadowing the group since Firiel and Rage had arrived in the city was not "overseeing" the reunion at the docks.  She was out in the open desert, arranging her "test."

            "My Lady," she began in her strong, yet feminine voice.  "I need your help.  My mission is one of great importance, and it cannot be accomplished alone."  Only she was aware of the ironic double meaning of this statement, though it was true either way. 

            "Go on," purred the Huntress, a leader of saber cats.  She had this cloaked stranger surrounded by her own feline minions, and she felt she had the advantage in this bargaining. "We may aid you…but first…where is your band? Who is your leader, and why hasn't she come here herself?"

            "My lady, who my hunt leader is, is not important. I have my orders, and I must follow them.  I have been in the human city of Lut Gholien, and have been following a group of heroes. At first, there were only two, a barbarian from the north, and a powerful sorceress. They soon joined with a necromancer, and today these three will unite with an amazon and rebellious follower of the Zakarum church.  The amazon is highly regarded by her gods and has a Valkyrie at her side.  No doubt the necromancer is a capable summoner as well.  I believe this group poses a serious threat to the Three, and I seek your help.  Soon, the group will come this way through the deserts, and I ask that you be ready to meet them.  Gather your band; bring in scarabs, lure sand maggots and vulture demons to this spot.  Be ready for them.  It will be a challenge, and they must be stopped."

            "And what of you, and your band? Can you and your leader truly expect us to do your work for you?" she said this to make the stranger more desperate for her help, but in truth she was very interested.  She doubted that a few heroes could prove much of a threat to anything.  After all, she had single-handedly killed many armed and armored humans out here on the desert. What did she have to fear from six? This cat must be out of her mind to think there was any danger…but still, the promise of a challenge was too good to pass up.

            "No my Lady, but there is only me right now.  I will come, but I am the only one sent here." She reached up to make sure the hood to her cloak was still up and covering her face, then wrapped the rest more tightly around her, to make it look as though she were merely trying to ward off the flying sand.

            The Huntress narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "A lone saber cat? Unlikely. I believe you are lying.  That your band was destroyed by these 'heroes', and that you ran away.  Weaklings and cowards deserve no better.  You are likely no better than a human's _housecat_."  She put an emphasis on this last word, and many of the cat-women around her hissed their disapproval.  "Still, I will help you, and so will my band. Nearly forty of us, and myself, will be here tomorrow.  And only tomorrow.  After that, you will be on your own.  We do not need help from scarabs and maggots to kill six would-be heroes.  No doubt the carrion birds will show up on their own."

            _No doubt_, she thought. _But most likely NOT for the bodies of fallen heroes._

            The Huntress finished her generous proclamation with a sneer. "I will see you tomorrow, housecat."  In a low growl she privately added, "Now, _leave_."

            "Yes, my Lady.  Thank you, my Lady." She turned away with a half-spin and a swirl of her cloak, and sprinted off back towards Lut Gholien.  Beneath the hood of her cloak, a smile began to spread. 

            "We shall see how long you stand up to seven tomorrow, _housecat!_"

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            The six of them where gathered around the table Az'Ral had been working on, which by now was clear of scrolls and powders.  Spirit Wing stood to the side, while the other five sat.  Az'Ral and Iconnus were on opposite each other, and seemed to be locked once again in a life-or-death staring contest.  Darkangel, Rage, and Firiel looked back and forth between one another and the two "contestants", unable to keep from smiling and struggling not to laugh.  Spirit Wing looked to Darkangel. _Tempus Fugit._ She "said" to the amazon.  Darkangel nodded.

            "Ahem." She cleared her throat loudly.

            Az'Ral broke the stare to look at her. He smirked, turned to Iconnus, and said calmly, "You win."  Then he turned back to Darkangel, a look of pure innocence on his face.  How he managed it without smiling, no one could ever figure out.

            Iconnus didn't seem to think it was as funny as everyone else did.

            "Now then..." said Darkangel, wiping her eyes. "Ahh, that was a good one. Hehe. Oh, come on, Holy Man, Lighten up! It wasn't that bad, and you two _were _pretty funny.  Now," she said, suddenly serious. "Back to business.  As Spirit Wing has so kindly reminded me, Time does indeed fly.  We have very, very little time before Diablo finds Baal, and it cannot be long before Kurast is overrun, like Travincal.  Our original plan was to split up, destroying Baal and Mephisto separately, then tracking down Diablo together." 

            "And yet, you and Iconnus are here, not helping Kurast, or hunting down Mephisto's Soulstone." Put in Rage. "It's not that we're not happy to see you, except for maybe our necromancer friend and Iconnus, but the point is…why are you _here_, and not _there_?"

"Yes, I know, and Iconnus is painfully aware of it as well, aren't you?" she asked the disgruntled paladin.

            "Rather."

            "Yes, well." The amazon resumed talking. "We _were_ going to follow the plan.  But Spirit Wing told me that Diablo is dangerously close to finding Baal.  You two—sorry, _three_ should not have waited for us.  She told me that if Diablo succeeded in freeing his brother before you got to him, he would most likely leave and begin looking for Mephisto, and the…three…of you would never find him." 

Darkangel stopped speaking to look at Spirit Wing. "She also says that the Three would most likely re-unite before we could tell you. And that the three of us alone could not take on the Three Brothers at once. The six of us together cannot pull that one off. The six of us may not be enough to take on just one of the Brothers.  So our only chance is to get to Baal before Diablo does. After that, we can go back to Kurast, or hunt Diablo down.  But if we fail…"

She let the thought hang.

            "Then we start tomorrow," said Firiel. "Sleep as much as you can tonight, everyone.  And hope we're not too late."

            "So now I'm a hero," Az'Ral muttered to himself. _And all I wanted to do was look at some tombs…_

And so we conclude Part 2.  Anyone starting to wonder what this "cloaked creature" is? Or have we all figured it out by now? Ooo, the suspense!! Part 3 coming soon, assuming people still like this after Part 2.  Usually the first chapter is the best…oh well.  Totally up to you people.  To everyone who reviewed the first part, THANK YOU, and I hope the second wasn't too much of a disappointment.  And I'm sorry it took me so long to type it up for you! What with vacation and all, and catching up on my Diablo2 playing.  Anyway, thank you all once again for the great reviews!! Feel free to E-mail me, Liarel_the_Sorceress@yahoo.com, in case I haven't mentioned it enough.  The evil fanfiction police dog doesn't seem to like it when you review twice, so if you have something to say, you may have to resort to E-mail if you want to say it badly enough.

P.S. to KillMagic: 

Thank you for your suggestion.  I will try to slow down the pace of my story, though I was afraid I was adding too much detail.  I had no clue as to what my writing style was, though I guess it's a little fast, huh?  Anyway, thanks again, and keep up the good work on your own Diablo2 fic!


	3. Shadera

Disclaimers, and Such:

Once again, about the same as before. One note, however. Shadera is MINE. My name, my character, mine. Designed to be pronounced **sha-_dair_-a**, but if you don't wanna read it that way, its up to you. 

Blizzard owns Diablo, and all related trademarks, in case you forgot between part 1 and part 2.

And thank you all for the great reviews! 'Ere we Go!

Part 3

_Damn, this sun is hot, _thoughtAz'Ral for about the hundredth time since leaving Lut Gholien. They were traveling through the deserts of Aranoch, looking for the Halls of the Dead that Cain had mentioned to Firiel. The necromancer wiped the sweat from his face, but then chuckled to himself. _Still, hot as I may be, I'd hate to be that paladin. He's got to be roasting himself alive in that armor. Aaahhh, poor fool. Nothing but leapers and sand in every direction. _He thought to himself, just as a sand leaper popped out of the sand and leapt over his head, only to be skewered by Rage as it hit the ground.

"I believe that's my twelfth leaper," Rage commented. "How many has everyone else gotten? I lost track of the irritating creatures awhile ago."

"Lucky seven for me." said Az'Ral.

"I think I've had nine." put in Darkangel.

"Still have to catch up to my sixteen, Rage." joked Firiel.

"Don't you all have anything better to do than count how many creatures you've slain?" asked Iconnus wearily.

"Spirit Wing says not to forget her nine as well." Darkangel reminded them.

"In other words, no," laughed Firiel. "We've been walking this wasteland desert for at least an hour looking for these 'Halls of the Dead'. So far, only sand, and sand leapers. So, in order to keep from dying of boredom, we can either count sand grains, or leapers. I prefer leapers. Hey! Look!" the sorceress pointed into the air at three "birds" flying overhead. "Scavenger demons. These beasts are mine."

She raised her arms, and charged the air with electrical energy. Sensing the threat, the scavengers swooped at Firiel, as she let fly with her own counterstrike. Lightning arced from her fingertips, hit the first demon, then jumped to the other two. They screeched in pain, but kept up their plummeting dive. Another bolt of chained lighting followed, and then a fireball. The flying demons exploded into a shower of burnt feathers and charred flesh.

Firiel smoothed her static hair back down.

"That's sixteen leapers, _and_ three scavengers."

Rage groaned.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The Huntress's scout had returned, telling her of the heroes' whereabouts. "Good," she purred. "They near our place of ambush. Gather the rest of the band. Tell then to be ready. It would appear that our cowardly friend has decided not to make her appearance. No matter, it saves me the trouble of killing her myself. Go, get your weapons."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

However, the Huntress was wrong. Her 'cowardly friend' _was_ planning on making an appearance. And she was not planning on getting killed. She was once again following the group as they made their way toward the saber cats' trap. She circled around the party and sprinted ahead, finding her own ambush point. Now she had a clear view of both the band of cats, and the group of traveling companions. Now, she was ready. She sharpened her claws one final time, and adjusted the light armor she wore. She also tossed aside her concealing cloak. She would not need it anymore after this was over, one way or another.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ten minutes and eight twisted vulture creatures later finds the party of six at the Huntress's attack site. Firiel suddenly spoke up, voicing a concern she had been feeling since she first saw the winged demons.

"Has anyone else noticed something strange? These demons are-"

"You've finally stopped counting how many creatures you have so callously slain?" retorted Inconnus angrily. "Or perhaps it's that we have been traveling through a scorching desert with a _necromancer_ hardly worth the name?"

Az'Ral's hand went to his dagger, without thinking. "You want a piece of me, Holy Knight? Of course, I hear that the 'devout and pious' followers of Zakarum aren't so holy anymore. Problems back at home? Religion and duty not working out like it's supposed to?"

Iconnus's brown eyes burned at the insult, which had struck home. Partly because it was so true. And he knew it. _How can he know? It has been kept secret. No one can know that unless they live there... What right does he have!! _ He gave up thinking about it right there. It didn't matter how the necromancer knew. He had been challenged.

"At least I have a religion, godless grave robber. I still value life, though I would hardly expect a master of death to understand that. And _what _a deathmaster _you_ are! Where are your slaves, dark one? I don't see any bodies for you to _defile._"

By this time, Iconnus's sword was out, too, and both men had pure hatred etched on their otherwise handsome faces.

"I have a religion, Holy Man, though I don't feel particularly inclined to share the details with you. I keep no slaves, but I am a necromancer, and I have rightfully earned the name." _Sort of, at least. What the Hell, I can summon; I'm a necromancer!_ Az'Ral thought bitterly. He continued. 

"I summon when summoning is needed, just as you fight when fighting is needed. And it would appear that both are needed now. I've had enough of you and your insults, and I'm fairly certain my golem will agree with me!"

He rubbed his hands together, as if warming them by a fire, and whispered an arcane chant no one else caught. Closed his eyes, and focused, while everyone else watched, tense and breathless. The air shimmered, and burst into flame. The summoner's fire golem took shape. "I hope you like it hot, paladin."

"Eye for an eye, necromancer." Said Iconnus as he activated one of his most powerful auras.

"Ha, you think so?" asked Az'Ral. He waved his hand almost lazily, and what seemed to be reddish flames danced over Iconnus's head. "Have a curse, one of _my_ favorites. Necromancers like to call it 'The Iron Maiden'. Enjoy."

The fire golem began to walk forward, and none of the other members of the quickly unraveling party had any time to react. Iconnus and Az'Ral would probably have killed each other except for one thing: a thrown potion bottle shattering at Spirit Wing's feet, poisoning her.

The Huntress and her band had decided to attack.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She had wanted to spring into action, to jump over the rocks and join the battle between the humans and cat-creatures. But she did not. "Not yet," she told herself. "But soon. It's all about patience, Shadera. Remember that. You have come too far to fail now because of impatience. Wait."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

With hisses and feral screams, the band of saber cats launched themselves at the confused party. Firiel was the first to react. "Az'Ral! Iconnus! This is not the time to fight each other! Everyone keep the away from me, I need concentration!"

Fully trusting that this would be enough to snap her friends back into reality, she closed her eyes and began to concentrate on her most powerful spell of freezing. First her arms, then the rest of her body began to glow a dazzling, icy blue. She raised her arms and began her chant.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Rage needed no more prompting. He had just had enough of all this. One of his oldest friends had been ready to fight to the death with his newest. And the only reason that the two hadn't killed each other was that they now had a more serious threat to deal with. The two duelists had been in a direct line with the cats' charge, and neither was doing well in the fight. They were all being surrounded. Firiel was vulnerable until she finished her spell, and Darkangel was trying to help Spirit Wing, who had taken a few more poison potions as the saber cats charged in. He felt the rage, his namesake, build, and he didn't try to suppress it. Iconnus and Az'Ral needed his help. Firiel needed his help. He had failed in keeping peace and order in the party. And now this. Enough was enough. 

These cats were going to die.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It had all happened so fast. Az'Ral had let down his guard and let his anger and pride overrule common survival sense. He had been a fool. And he knew it.

The saber cats were on them. He and Iconnus had been the first to be attacked, and it had happened almost too fast to react to. But the necromancer had been ready to do battle, and so had his fire golem. It wasted no time shielding its master, and dealing out flaming punishment of its own. Whips cracked, potions exploded, and javelins flew. Az'Ral's dagger literally dripped with venom.

He slashed at one cat, catching her in the arm. The wound itself was not enough to finish her, but he trusted to his poisons. She brought her whip up for another lash, but never brought it down. Her whole body twitched, and foam bubbled out from between her teeth before she collapsed to the ground. It took less than a second, but that was enough for Az'Ral to whirl around just in time to see a second saber cat throw her first barbed javelin, and begin readying another. His eyes widened, and he did the first thing he could think of. A quick twitch of his fingers, and the sand exploded beneath him. Bits and pieces of bone flew up just in time to catch the force of the javelin's impact. The hastily summoned shield of bone crumbled back to the sand.

Az'Ral rushed the saber cat, noticing with a grim kind of satisfaction that his fire golem had just exploded in a firestorm of ash and flame, incinerating the three cats it was fighting. "Of course, that means I'll have to watch my back now." He muttered.

He reached the spear cat as she readied another javelin. He was too close to her for the cat to be able to throw it, so she did the next best thing, and jabbed it straight at his chest. He barely managed to dodge. _Damn, these cats are fast,_ he thought bitterly. The cat's wild jabs had missed their mark, but still caught him on the arm, tearing through the thin mesh armor he wore there. _Ouch. Dammit, that's enough!_

The necromancer kicked at her, his hard metal boot connecting solidly with her stomach. She doubled over, and he brought his dagger down in a two handed slash. He hadn't needed the poison on his dagger. And so, with a moment to recover, he looked quickly at is arm. _Not too bad, _he thought, touching it gingerly_. Not worth a potion, in any case._ He looked around, for more cats to fight.

And saw Iconnus.

The paladin's aura had been working quite well for him; three cats lay dead around him. But the aura, powerful as it was, had no effect on the javelins thrown at him, and the close combat wounds were taking their toll. The slingers were ready to throw the last of their weapons and charge in to finish off the doomed paladin. Az'Ral had time for one thought.

__

I know I'm going to regret this.

He reached Iconnus just as the spear cats threw their barbed javelins. A huge wall of bone erupted from the sand, just as his smaller shield had done before. Once again, bone blocked javelin, and the two had a moment. The necromancer turned quickly to the fallen paladin, and offered him a hand. "Get up!" he urged.

Iconnus's look of suspicion quickly faded as he noticed what was left of the bone wall. And the next wave of javelins flying at it. "It's crumbling!" he shouted.

The first spear hit it. The wall crumbled to dusty fragments, leaving the two without a shield. "Hurry! Get to your feet!" Az'Ral grabbed Iconnus's arm and started to pull him up. Barbed spears sank into the sand, inches from the two men. "Listen, just trust me 'til we get out of this. I'll be happy to fight you afterwards but-"

A javelin found its mark.

Az'Ral sank to both knees, too shocked to say anything else. Iconnus shared the same feelings.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

She looked upon the battle, her excitement growing. It was time. The sorceress had unleashed her spell; several frozen orbs; across the battlefield, freezing and melting six of the saber cats. Five others had been hit, weakened and slowed, and were waiting their turn at the berserk barbarian's swords. The amazon had recovered from her initial shock with her Valkyrie, and was hurling throwing spears charged with electricity into the saber cat pack. Together, the two had taken down seven of the felines. But the party was confused, unorganized, and chaotic. Nearly half of the saber cat band remained, and it was almost as well organized as it had started out. The leader remained as well, standing far enough away from the battle to be in sight, yet safe from harm. 

"Or so she thinks," muttered the quick moving fighter. Battle excitement sparkled in her intense green eyes. "Alright, Shadera…now!"

She launched herself from her hiding place, straight at the Huntress, almost too fast for the eye to follow.

"Iiiiiiiii-yaah!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

At first he thought he had been hit by a rock, as all he had felt was a sharp jolt. Then…the pain. Burning pain. Excruciating pain. Blinding pain.

Az'Ral looked down in surprise, then looked back at Iconnus. The paladin's expression mirrored his own. 

The force of the throw had sent the javelin through the thin metal of Az'Ral's armor. The bone overlays were meant to stop slashes and crushing blows, not puncture wounds, so they were useless in protecting him. The barbed javelin tore through muscle, and the necromancer's right lung, lodging at last between the bones of his ribcage. The very tip of the weapon had come through the metal and bone of the armor covering his chest. The pain was amazing. It blocked all other sensation. But he could still hear Iconnus's now worried voice: "Say something! Damn you, necromancer, don't die on me yet! I know you can hear me, say something!"

Az'Ral gasped as the air left his impaled lung and coughed. Tasted blood. He blinked, groaned.

"Uh…ouch?" he choked out.

He was only dimly aware of the rest of the fight. Of Firiel's frozen orbs, Rage's berserk whirlwind, and Darkangel's lightning furies. Iconnus was holding him upright on his knees. The paladin's hands glowed with a soft blue light, but the dazed necromancer barely noticed the attempt to heal him. His pain-wracked mind almost registered Shadera's flight to join the battle.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean-"

"Dammit, necromancer!"

The quiet darkness of unconsciousness rushed in, ending the pain for the time being.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Huntress turned just in time to catch Shadera's high-heeled black boot in her face. She reeled backwards, stunned. "Wha-?"

"Want some more, housecat?" Shadera taunted, revealing herself to the cat for the first time.

"What? You are…human!" spat the Huntress with wide eyes.

Shadera's smile was pure venom. She held up her hands, showing of the metal blades strapped to her wrists. They began to pulse with light, first icy blue, then crackling white and fiery orange. The Huntress readied her whip and an oil potion. They attacked at the same instant.

Shadera raked her blade talons across the Huntress's body, drawing deep gashes. Wisps of energy began to collect about her, humming as if begging to be released. The Huntress's thrown oil potion burst at Shadera's feet, and her whip lashed across her chest and stomach. The two backed away, both bloody and breathing hard after the furious attacks each had given and received.

The dark woman's attack seemed to come in slow motion to the doomed huntress. The orbs of energy gathered together, channeling into the metal blades of her claw weapons. At the moment of contact on the cat woman's badly rent armor, the charged energy released, bursting into flames, shards of ice and an electrical nova. The lifeless body of the huntress was literally thrown backwards, and fell to the ground.

The battle froze. Saber cats stared in shock, and Rage lopped off a few more heads. Darkangel impaled another startled cat, while her Valkyrie did the same.

The rest of the cats fled, with more hissing than had accompanied their first attack.

"Death becomes you, housecat," Said the Assassin, wickedly. She then noticed the fallen necromancer, and Iconnus's desperate attempts to heal him. "Dammit!"

She rushed over to help as best she could.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Hours passed, and darkness fell.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

After hasty introductions, they managed to get Az'Ral's chest armor off. Since the javelin had a barbed tip, it wasn't possible to simply pull it out. The best they could do was to break off the back half, and push it through, while hoping that the poor necromancer remained unconscious. Then there was the battle to stop the blood flow before he bled to death. Iconnus's healing aura, as well as many bolts of warm blue light, accomplished this, but left the paladin drained.

Shadera's sentry traps were keeping the scavengers from reaching the camp, but they needed to get off the battlefield, before too many of the flesh-eating birds showed up. What they really needed was Az'Ral to wake up, so he could drink a potion, as they had no other way to heal him. Sleeping on the hot desert sand was not going to facilitate any sort of natural healing process. The group needed to get back to Lut Gholien, to _re_group.

But all they could do was wait.


	4. Two steps forward, three steps back

Disclaimers, and Such: see previous chapters. Thanks. Part 4 

            He felt his soul flying, spiraling away in the darkness, and he tried desperately to call it back.  He was aware of what had happened during the battle, but it seemed far away, as if it were someone else's life, someone else's fight.  It seemed like...a nightmare.

_Maybe it was, he couldn't tell.  He knew only one thing: that he must get himself under control.  That if he lost himself now, he might never find his way back. "Wake up! Wake up! You're not losing now, Az'Ral." he told is dream-self. "Come back."_

_            Suddenly the world flipped, and he was standing. Before him, a large temple stood.  In a jungle, a jungle that looked familiar, like the ones back…"home…this is…home." He thought in surprise._

_            A gray mist fell, like the transition between one dream and the next._

_            He moved, effortlessly, through corridors.  He knew, somehow, that this was the inside of the tower he had stood in front of. Blood covered the dark halls, and corpses lay in piles._

_            "Where the Hell am I? This makes no sense." he wondered._

_            "Come now, necromancer," came a reply, a mixture of three voices. Each one was different, yet they were all the same. Cruel, Evil. "Isn't it obvious?"_

_            "If it were obvious, I wouldn't have asked, would I?" he retorted._

_            "Allow us to clarify for you." Said the three voices, once again, in unison. _

_The necromancer's dream-self was slammed abruptly to the ground. He pushed himself up to one knee, and looked around.  He was kneeling on a narrow strip of bloodied floor. On the other side, and to the front, were deep trenches, where most of the blood had flowed.  But it was what was on the other side of the "river" that held his gaze and attention._

_            Diablo, Mephisto, and Baal, staring down at him with malevolent eyes and wicked grins._

_            "This...no...you three are miles apart...you...NO!"  He tried to make sense of his scattered thoughts. "Baal...you're still trapped...in that tomb...this isn't real!_

_            "No, sadly.  Not yet" said Baal._

_            "But soon," added Mephisto. "Our youngest brother will soon free us both.  You will be too late!"_

_            "You have no idea what you are dealing with, mortal." Diablo laughed. "Neither did the last one, and many have guessed what happened to him!"_

_            "Why am I here?" shouted Az'Ral, standing up. "Why me? I'm no hero. I should be home...in..." he trailed off in dismay, "...Rathma..." he finished with a whisper._

_            The hideous laughter of the three evils drowned out all thought._

_            "And yet, you are not." Said Mephisto, simply._

_            "Exile is an interesting thing, am I right?" sneered Baal._

_            "You would know best, Spawn of Hell." Az'Ral retorted._

_            "Perhaps you need reminding of the reasons for your own?" queried Mephisto._

_            "NO!"_

_            "We have more in common than it would first appear, necromancer." A wave of Mephisto's hand, and the corpses strewn about the room animated, moving to surround Az'Ral._

_            "You make it seem so easy, demon." He said, hatred beginning to creep into his voice._

_            Mephisto smiled, pleased. Another twitch of a skeletal arm, and the revived corpses collapsed.  "And so it is, with little more teaching."_

_            "I will see you all to Hell."_

_"To Hell, or in Hell?" came Diablo's deep voice, in mocking wonder. _

_"Whatever it takes.  All three of you." The fire blazing in the necromancer's eyes was unmistakably pure hatred._

_Diablo's eyes glowed with an intensity that fully matched AzRal's. _

_"We shall see, mortal." The two horns framing his face made his smile seem all the more sinister. "We shall see." He turned to his brother, Baal, and nodded._

_It was Baal's turn to grin evilly, as he spread his thin arms wide and unleashed a shimmering blue wedge of energy. Az'Ral's eyes widened and he tried to dodge.  But it came too fast and hit him squarely in the chest, chilling and knocking the wind out of him, sending him flying backwards.  The world spun out of control, and all he could hear was the mocking laughter of the Three Prime Evils in his head._

"Ral? Ral! Wake up!" the voice was Firiel's voice, and just about the last thing the dazed and confused necromancer had expected to hear, especially after what had just happened.  His eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up.

"Firiel, wha-"

"Shut up!" she said happily, on the verge of tears of relief. She smiled. "Just, lie back down. Hey! Everyone! He's awake!"

"Well, if I hadn't been awake before, that would have done the trick!" he whispered, hoarsely. _At least, I hope so. _

Soon, everyone was gathered around, including the assassin, Shadera.  Az'Ral was surprised to see her there.  He knew what assassins meant, and it was not particularly reassuring. Especially not after what had just happened.  He couldn't stop thinking about it.  What did it mean? Was it a dream, or…he brushed it aside. He would tell them all later.  He managed to raise himself to his elbows, ignoring the pain.

"So, I take it we won?" he asked.

"That depends on what you mean by won," said Iconnus grimly. "But we are alive, and the saber cats are gone.  With no small amount of help from Shadera here." The paladin indicated the assassin with one hand, still covered in a gauntlet.

She nodded. "Well met, Summoner." The two shook hands

"So, you are…Shadera." He said. "And you are…"

"Yes, we are generally known as Assassins." She said, slightly amused. "I should give you all an explanation of why I am here, I suppose.  My first introduction was hardly adequate."

The rest of the party nodded. "But first," said Firiel, handing Az'Ral a bottle of red liquid. "Drink that."

"Yes ma'am!"

The group laughed. They needed it.

"All right.  Start at something resembling a beginning, I suppose. I am Shadera, part of an order whose sole purpose is to hunt and destroy the Three Evil's corruption.  We are called assassins, as some of you know, for we generally find corruption in humans. Magi. And we destroy it.

I am here because I know of the task you six face. You are going after Baal, of Destruction. I have followed you ever since...you left Lut Gholien."

Az'Ral knew a half-truth when he saw one: he had used them just as often himself.  But he said nothing. He was thinking about what the re-emergence of the Assassins meant for him…and for his Homeland. For if the ancient Order of Mage Slayers had joined the fight…what could this mean?

"And so, we of the Order have been sent out, to combat this Evil.  And now I have found the six of you, who seem to be moving towards the same goal I am.  You have seen me fight, will you welcome in another set of weapons?" she looked around, waiting for an answer.

The vote was unanimous, though Az'Ral's "yes" seemed a bit subdued.  However, the addition of a new member to the party had lifted everyone's spirits.  They dismissed it, thinking that he must simply be tired.  After all, the poor necromancer had just taken a javelin through the chest! Of course anything he said would sound a tad strained.  Rage voiced these very thoughts.

"Thank you, Shadera, for your help.  We will gladly accept your help in destroying Baal.  Hopefully, you will decide to accompany us to Kurast as well, to track down Mephisto.  But that is business best left for another day.  We're all dead on our feet, and Ral certainly could do with some more rest."

The mage began a protest, but was quickly silenced by a hand over his mouth.  Unable to talk, he choked down what he was going to say and merely glared at the offending barbarian.

"Don't give me that! Despite being asleep for half the day and the night, you still need rest. Let the healing potion work, for Arreat's Sake! And stop glaring at me like that.  Your face will freeze that way, and then where will you be?"

Another laugh made its way around the campfire.

"Fine, fine." A'Ral said, surrendering. "You win, this time.  But I will have my revenge!" he finished with a smile. "So watch out."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Rage clearly didn't believe him.  "Just go to sleep.  That goes for everyone!"

"Aaawww, party's over, I guess." Said Darkangel. "Night, all."

Everyone was exhausted, and within minutes, only Spirit Wing was awake, keeping watch along with Shadera's sentry traps.  Thankfully, Az'Ral's sleep was dreamless.

* * * * * * * * * *  * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * 

            Despite the knowledge that they were quickly running out of time, the seven decided to spend one last day in Lut Gholien, resting and having their armor repaired.  Az'Ral's armor, especially, needed a little tweaking.  

Rage yanked the blue string off of a small scroll, and threw it into the air.  It disintegrated into thousands of sparkling blue particles, which formed themselves into a shimmering portal.

Once in Lut Gholien, Darkangel split off in order to reserve their rooms, while the rest of them went to get equipment repaired.

"Meet us at the tavern, Angel!" called Firiel.

"Oh no, you're not going to…you are. Firiel!"

"What?" demanded the sorceress, feigning innocence.

"We only have one last day in town, we don't need to drag you through the desert with a hangover!"

"Right, we only have one more day.  We're going to make the most of it! Right Rage? Ready to lose another Challenge?"

"Hell, no, this time I'm winning!" Rage cried. "The fact that a sorceress can out drink a barbarian even _once is just sickening.  My honor and pride are at stake!"_

"Rage, you _do remember what happened the last time the two of you had one of these foolish challenges." Reminded Iconnus. "I had to drag you outside and use my cleansing aura on you. But, I did it once, I suppose I can do it again…"_

Az'Ral and Shadera turned to each other and shrugged.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            "Go Firiel!"

            "Go Rage!"

            "Go Ral!"

            "Wooooo…lookie, I'm getting cheersh!" slurred the necromancer in response.

            "Shut up and drink, pansy! You haven't won yet!" roared Rage.

            "Oh yea? Wash this!" he downed yet another drink.

            "Ooo, pretty good for a…a…whatever the Hell you are." Firiel admitted. "But it's all about the sorsheressesss…yeah. 'Ere we go!"

            "Psst…Iconnus. Get that aura of yours ready." Whispered Darkangel "I think all three of then are going to need it."

            "Yes, I agree…COME ON RAGE!!…you know, I think it will do me some good as well….*hic!* this takes some getting used to, doesn't it?"

            "Man, I thought you paladins weren't allowed to do stuff like this…drinking?"

            "Yeah, but what's going to happen?  If you think about it, no one at home cares…and the High Heavens know it helps prepare for battle!"  the drink was definitely affecting Iconnus's mind.

            "Ah, Iconnus? Darkangel?" the voice was Shadera's.  it looks like they're almost done."

            She was right.  With an almighty crash, Rage pulled the table over and fell to the floor, obviously snoring and out of the match.  A certain necromancer was quick to point this out, even in his slightly muddled state.

            "*hic* see, I told you I'd get revenge! Don't you EVER doubt my skillzzz…. Whoooaaaa…dizzyishness…"

            "Give up?" asked Firiel.

            N-n-n-ope! Gimmie another…uh…one." But the next thing anyone heard was two thuds, as the two friends collapsed next to their companion on the floor.

            "Well, that's it then." Said Iconnus. "Time to drag them outside.  Better call Spirit Wing this time."

            "I'll help." Offered Shadera.

            "Alright, alright." Said the paladin, with a strange gleam in his eye. "Hey, …Ariana! Want to try an arm wrestle? It doesn't require any more drinking!"

            "At least, not anymore than you've already done," Darkangel sighed. "Fine.  But none of those strength auras of yours! And don't call me Ariana! I'm Darkangel now."

            "Yeah, fine whatever…"

            Shadera could only shake her head.  So this was the company she had found for her quest!  _Well_, she thought _It will be…interesting._

So there you have it, chapter 4.  I just can't stop saying thank you to everyone who has read this and reviewed!  And if you _have_ read but _haven't _reviewed…well, bad! Get reviewing! J  Seriously, even if you thought the story was complete and utter crap, a huge rip-off, conflicting with your religious beliefs, or whatever made you not want to review…well, I wanna hear from you anyway!  I didn't exactly write this to get published, or for fame or glory!  I wrote it to figure out my writing style, to express my slightly darker side, and to—well, I don't know what else.  However, getting an E-mail from someone would certainly be a plus, and who knows? If you ask very nicely, and I actually know the answer I might tell you my frightening random thoughts and future plans for this story. Just kidding (or am I?), but I would love to hear from any one of you, even if it's only to receive a lovely, personalized flame.

To borrow a quote from a friend of mine, 

"I have just found out why time exists and will eventually write a book about…something."

What relevance does this have? Absolutely none.  It was a random thought.

Stay tuned for chapter 5!

~~Qual~~


	5. On the road again!

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***Sigh***, **these disclaimers are getting repetitive!**

A slightly more serious chapter than my other ones, this one sets up some more of the story for later on.  Soon we're getting to the good stuff!

Part 5

            "Alright everyone, here's the deal." Said Shadera once everyone was gathered together. "Our task right now is to get this Horadric Cube. We all know that, so it should come as no huge surprise. Now, when you all first set out, you had no idea which direction to go.  Truth be told, neither did I. However, I now have _this_." She pulled out a folded piece of parchment.  This she quickly spread out onto the table in front of them.

"A map.  I started to make it when I left Lut Gholien. Here," she said, pointing to area where high cliffs began to converge "is where our battle with the saber cats took place. It is the gap between the 'Rocky Waste' as the locals call it, and the 'Dry Hills' where your Halls of the Dead can be found.

            "And I think this is the place." She said, laying a finger on a large square she had drawn.

            "So you mean to tell me that we were nearly there when Iconnus and I were about to kill each other?!" asked Az'Ral incredulously.

            "Well, that about sums it up." the assassin replied.

            "Aaahhhhhhhhhwwwwwww……" sighed the necromancer as he let his head drop to the hard tabletop with a loud thud.

            Rage poked him in the back of the head. "Wake up!"

            Az'Ral was indignant. "Has anyone ever told you how _annoying_ that is?"

            "No."

            "I seeeee…." He turned away and started coughing. For some reason or another, it sounded a lot like the word "imbecile."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * * * * * *  

            "Now, see these cliffs?" asked Shadera. "Here we are. Beyond this gap are the so-called Dry Hills. Aptly named, it would appear. Anyway, if we follow this wall on the left side, we will run into a structure that I will bet is our Halls. Oh, and keep your eyes out for black raptors, I saw a few my first time here.

            They walked onward, alert for any sounds of movement other than their own.  They had no desire whatsoever for a repeat of the saber cat battle.

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            "Well, that's a tomb if _I_ ever saw one." remarked Az'Ral.  "And believe me, I _have_ seen tombs."

            Shadera had led the rest of the party to the half-buried Halls of the Dead, avoiding any confrontations with the local (and somewhat twisted) wildlife. Everyone appreciated it.

            "So we…what, just walk down the steps?" asked Darkangel, peering into the darkness.

            "I suppose so…who wants to go first?" said Firiel.

            "I will." volunteered Iconnus. "Give me a moment." He knelt down, and mumbled a few words of prayer. The ground itself suddenly seemed to shimmer and sparkle. "The Light be my Sanctuary." He said.

            "Luck to you, my new-found friend." Said Az'Ral.  The necromancer and paladin clasped wrists, finally seeming at ease with one another.  Saving one another's lives tends to do that to a relationship.

            "Knowing your luck, I may be better off without it!" smiled the paladin. "I will call up once I am safely down."

* * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            "Alright!" came the muffled voice at the bottom "I'm down, at there's…nothing here."

            "How odd." Az'Ral mused. "Well, no point in delaying."

            Soon the entire party was down. Iconnus's glimmering aura didn't give quite enough light to see by, which was unfortunate. There was nothing to make a torch out of. The darkness seemed to close in around the small party, as if trying to swallow them up, and keep them from the light of day.  They heard a low chanting begin, somewhere in the gloom beyond.

            Then brilliant light, as another of the necromancer's fire golems crackled into life. "Sorry about that!" he said quickly, noting the startled expressions on his companion's faces. "I just…had to get enough room to summon it…uh…I'm sorry."

            "Idiot! Next time, warn us!" said Firiel, who had been about to launch a lightning bolt in his direction.  She controlled the burst just in time, and the energy from the uncast spell fizzled from her fingertips in a shower of sparks.

            "Yes, sorry. Can do, next time."

            The part moved onward, using the light of the flaming golem to find their way. There was surprisingly little resistance, which was quickly dealt with by Rage and Spirit Wing. No one saw any reason to waste energy in using any sort of magical skill.  However, Iconnus still kept his aura going, in an effort to make sure that none of the walking dead got too near. They soon found another stairway, heading still deeper into the ground.  Az'Ral sent his golem down first, which was all too willing to comply. Something the necromancer appreciated more than anyone guessed.

            The second level of the dark tomb was much harder to get through. The moment the group was down, they were immediately beset by hordes of animated corpses. The attack left Rage and Iconnus gulping healing potions, Az'Ral summoning a new golem, and Firiel recovering from her magical exertions. It also left some members of the party wondering why Az'Ral hadn't summoned up a bit more help.

            "So why is it exactly that you don't seem to summon anything?" asked Shadera, pulling him aside as they walked on.

"I do." He said simply, and looked away.

"No, I meant besides your golems. I noticed that all throughout the fight with the cats, you never raised anything but a single fire golem, like the one you have now. Do you mind if I ask why?"

"Oh, well. Um…I uh…no reason." He said quickly. "I just ah...never got around to it. And well, there's still Iconnus…he didn't exactly like the sight of me the first time we met, and I don't feel that pushing the necromantic/holy magic issue would be a good idea. Really."

"Truly necromancer, I doubt he would mind if it kept him from drinking those disgusting potions. You yourself know what they taste like! You _can_ do it, can't you?" she said slyly, testing.

"Ah, well...alright, fine. Hm…yes, skeletons we can do without too much trouble…" he began muttering to himself. "Wait up, everyone. Give me a minute or two! You wanted me to warn you, right?" he sheathed his weapon, and knelt by several of the shattered skeletons on the floor. He began chanting, a slight variation on the golem summoning spell. Wisps of blue mist seemed to rise from his fingertips as he reached out and touched a skull.

"Come." He whispered into the silent air of the tombs.

And it did.  The blue mist filled the empty skull, then flowed over the shattered bones, drawing them together.  With much clattering and scraping, the skeleton pieced itself together and stood up, holding spheres of the mist in its hands. It began to pace around, while its master watched nervously. He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Well then.  Lets have a few more, shall we?"

Soon there were five skeletons clattering about the room. One was the first, clutching glowing blue energy. Another held acidic looking green.  The remaining three picked up fallen weapons and began swinging them around, as if to test the balance. "Shall we go then?" asked Az'Ral.

* * * * * * * * * * *  * *  * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            Hacking their way through the second level of the halls took much longer than the top level. Even Az'Ral joined in and kicked apart a weakened skeleton that stood in his way.  His own skeletons were looking decidedly more battered, and e considered letting them go. _Never feel sorry for your minions, _he thought_.  They exist to serve and protect you.  No more. _More determined, he urged his skeletons onward, headless now to their chips and cracks.

            At the stairs down to yet another level, Firiel stopped them. "Alright. According to our fine friend Cain, this is the third and final level-"

"Hm…you don't say…third level, really? So that's what comes after the second. I would never have guessed." quipped Az'Ral.

            "Yes, it's the third level." She continued. "I'm glad you can count. Anyway, as I was saying. Our cube should be here, somewhere. And, it's most likely guarded, more so than these levels were. So we all need to be 'on the alert'. Shadera, this is probably what you're best at, so listen at all the doors so we have an idea of what we're up against. Oh, and let's all be really, really quiet, so nothing down here knows what _it's_ up against. Ready?"

            No objections were made.

* ** * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The first impression was one of silence. Nothing came at them from the shadows, no sounds were heard in the gloom beyond the flickering light of the necromancer's golem. And there was no constant drip of water, as there had been in the sewers beneath Lut Gholien.  It was eerie, to say the least.

"Perhaps whatever was down here was drawn upward by the sounds of us fighting above," ventured Rage in a low whisper. But even that innocuous sound seemed to echo loudly in the dark stillness.

He party moved on.

Cautiously, they listened at every door while Shadera continued her map. "If we ever get finished with this ridiculous task, these maps should come in handy. We will have mapped out much of the desert surrounding Lut Gholien. Someone is sure to want the information."

"No doubt," murmured Az'Ral. "But first, I believe we need to go through here. Listen, what do you hear?" he motioned to the door he had been listening at. Shadera moved over, and pressed her ear against the cold stone.

"Cats!?" she exclaimed, still in a whisper. "What are cats doing down here? Since when do they live below ground?"

"My thoughts exactly."

There was a pause, a moment of silence.

Which was shattered along with the door, as Rage kicked it down and yelled out three different warcries, all calling for the death and dismemberment of various Hellspawn. Saber Cats most certainly included.

"And so, we abandon all subtlety and the advantage of surprise, in favor of breaking things apart, right Rage?" called Firiel over the sounds of a battle being joined.

"Uuhhh…" he began, quickly dodging a blow from the cat thing he was fighting. Her whip still glance of his shoulder, tearing skin and leaving a bright red mark behind. "Ow! Hang on…" the barbarian reversed his sword's momentum, and brought it whistling through the air.  And the saber cat's neck. With surprising agility for someone so big, he hopped backward out of the spray of blood, while the headless feline toppled to the floor. He flipped the sword point down and leaned on it. "Yup," he replied. "Smashing things is fun." This point was emphasized as the huge man kicked several urns into another cat who was rushing him, then leaped onto her swords first.

Firiel sighed and loosed a few sparkling spikes of ice into the battle. Within twenty seconds of the fight's beginning, it was over, with only the leader of the small pack left alive. And, of course, hissing.

"Fools!" she spat between clenched teeth.  "What hope can you possibly have? You are only _human_, what makes you think you can stand up to the three masters? You have no hope, and will serve your time in Hell for your folly!" she kept going, though it was hard for anyone to be sure of what she was saying because of all the hissing and sputtering.

Az'Ral finally stepped forward menacingly, dagger in hand, his eyes lit with green fire. The necromancer stood less than three feet from the saber cat, with no trace of fear or apprehension on his face. His skeletal minions stood close to their master, uncertain of what to do. The two rivals locked eyes, the dark man's gaze cold and demanding obedience. His companions watched silently, in awe. Each hero held their breath, uncertain of their friend's intentions.

The saber cat crouched down, and began to back away in fear. Az'Ral's eyes narrowed dangerously. His next word came out as a whisper, once again magnified by the still air.

"Name."

Fear filled the creature's widened eyes as she stammered her Hell-given name for all to hear. "B-b-blood Witch…" she choked out, her own voice no louder than the enraged necromancer's.

"Blood Witch." He said, tasting the name, letting it roll off his tongue in disgust. He bent down, fully exposing his neck and back to the cornered saber cat.  But she did not strike.  She was held, rooted to her place by a fear she could not understand, a fear that filled the very room. A fear that seemed to originate with the necromancer, Az'Ral.

"Look here." He said, picking up a cracked and bloody bone, oblivious to the concerned looks on his friend's faces. He crushed it, as he had done in the sewers with Radament. That day seemed so far away now. The bone dust trickled into one of the necromancer's palms, and as it did so, he pulled the spirit from it with the other hand. "This is called a bone spirit," he explained, as if teaching a group of children. "The tortured thing screams for revenge, and I cannot hold it for long. When I lose control I will only be able to mentally shield myself, and the fine people you see around me. Now, what do you suppose will happen when I let it go?

"…Az'Ral…" came a query from Iconnus. "Does this have…a point?"

"Yes."

"What do you want, human?" asked the cat, getting over her fear and regaining some of her arrogance. A mistake.

"Az'Ral, what purpose?" asked Rage

"_What do you want?! Kill me, or let me be!_"

"What purpose? Revenge. My hatred…yes…_hatred_ for all your kind has grown tremendously. You have no idea, creature of Hell." The spirit that the dark mage held captive was humming, a hum so high pitched it resembled a scream. Which it may well have been.

"And now that I know, human, what do you want me to do about it?" the cat asked, sarcastically.

"Nothing." He shrugged. "Just thought you should know."

And released.

The spirit did indeed scream. So did the saber cat, as she felt her weakened, corrupted soul torn away into oblivion. Her body fell lifeless to the ground, with no visible wound to be seen from the necromancer's attack. The group stared, in silence.

Az'Ral collapsed to his knees, stunned. "What…" he whispered to no one. "What…have I…just done?" Rage and Iconnus knelt down to help the necromancer to his feet. He was visibly shaken. "I…I…I…" was all he could manage.

"Handled like a true necromancer, Az'Ral." remarked Shadera. "Quite a piece of work, actually. You pulled the name out of that creature without so much as a thought. I thought your kind only controlled the dead, but you seem to have had quite the influence."

"We're…not supposed to…I…I can't even…"

"Don't worry," said Iconnus. "It's…fine, everything is all right."

"_No_, you don't understand. I…wasn't me...but I _was_ me, but…I…can't.._._" _You see? _Came a voice, from the dark forbidden recesses of his mind. _You're as good as any of them._

"NO!" he jerked away from the support of his two companions. "I can't! I just…can't!"

"My friend, you'll be fine. Whatever you're worried about has no power here now." Firiel laid a hand on his arm, and locked her deep blue eyes onto his emerald ones. There he saw order in place of chaos, friendship instead of hate. And her certainty replaced his instability. He calmed himself, forced his breath to slow.

And with a flick of his wrist, released the gathered skeletons. Rage caught him as he slumped in defeat.

"Angel, grab that cube and let's get the Hell out of here." 

_Someday I'll explain to them,_ the exhausted necromancer thought to himself. _Someday, they will understand_.

Well, that's part five! I dunno about the people reading it, but I had fun writing this chapter. Sorry, to all who care, that it took me so long! Thank you to everyone who has e-mailed and reviewed (need I say it again? … YES!). I promise I will get around to answering some of you. My Internet has been having…issues (it hates me, we fight all the time) so I haven't been able to give some of you the time and attention you deserve. Actually, as I sit here typing, it's not working. Damn that Internet! I'll make it pay, it'll be sorry it ever crossed my path!…

Have no fear, random thoughts will be forthcoming! Maybe I should make that a normal part of my author's notes.  Some people will prolly look forward to them more than anything else! Let's see….

I'm sure one thing we've all wondered a time or another is: Why, in all these fantasy games, do the potions ALWAYS land upright? And why the Hell do Quill Rats need gold, anyway? I think someone here on ff.net mentioned that, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it yet. You people. But you're all great anyway.

 Back to the random thought of the day:

            "Why is it so hard to think of random thoughts when I want to think of one, but they buzz in my head all day long when I DON'T want them?"

Just watch, as soon as I close out this document and go to read a book (Forgotten Realms Dark Elf Trilogy, by the way. Go read it!) I'll think of more random thoughts. I should keep them on a disk like a friend o' mine.

Qualinesti, signing off! 'till next time, folks!

Ooo….I should type up that other short thing…right now…pay me no mind, I'm done now.

Stop reading this!!

I'm warning you…

Dammit, go review if you have nothing better to do!

Shoo!


	6. And So It begins...the Most Annoying Que...

**Disclaimers**: If you haven't had enough of these already, just imagine the funny look I'm giving you.  There ya go.

Part 6 

Taking me long enough!

            It was night once the party arrived back in Lut Gholien again, but they wasted no time in getting to Cain for the next bit of information they would need.  Consulting the scroll once more, he told them that in order to find the shaft of the fabled Horadric Staff, they would need to look for the lair of the large sand maggots. As everyone knew, they had once been served at _Atma's_, for a mere 5 gold per serving.  Now, however, they had grown huge, poisonous, and hungry.  Somewhere deep within the lair of the voracious creatures lay the seemingly simple wooden staff, on which so much depended.  Az'Ral quickly pulled everyone aside.

"We're running out of time."

            These simple words, though everyone knew them, seemed to take on a different meaning when spoken by the weary necromancer.  Perhaps it was his tone, or just the way he said it, but everyone knew this was not merely a reminder that they had better get going.  It meant more.

            "What do you mean?" asked Rage.

            "I mean…that we are going to be too late. We may _already_ be too late. I…don't think I can explain right now, but I promise I will…eventually.  But I don't believe that we can continue to do this as a group of seven.  True, the individual battles may go faster, but it will take us longer in the end.  What I'm trying to say is that we still have to find the shaft, the headpiece, and the tomb of Baal itself.  If we…split up, then we should be able to gather the pieces, and find the tomb more quickly.  I pair will find it easier to avoid fighting than seven."

            There was a pause, as even Spirit Wing seemed to consider this new plan.  The companions looked at each other, minds made up.  They knew it was risky, but they also knew it may well be their only chance to get through to Baal before Diablo did.

            "Alright." Said Rage.  "Judging by the fact that we all have the same expressions on our faces, I take it that we're splitting off? Three groups, in pairs.  Spirit Wing will, of course, go with Darkangel.  How else shall we do this?"

"You and Firiel go together." Said Az'Ral. "Your might and her magic should balance out."

"Just like before, my large barbarian friend." Said Firiel, putting an arm across his broad shoulders.  She had to stand partially on her toes to accomplish this.

"Iconnus, you want to party with Angel and Spirit Wing again?" asked Rage, returning Firiel's half-hug.

"More than ready.  We have to make up for our performance on the last time we split off."

"Right.  So Az'Ral, Shadera…make us proud!"

"Yes Sir!" the two said in unison.  They looked at each other and laughed.

"So." Said Darkangel.  "Who wants to do what?  There's a shaft, headpiece, and tomb to find."

They all stared blankly at each other.

"Doesn't matter much, I suppose." Remarked Az'Ral. "Should we...what, flip gold pieces?  Draw coins, cast bones? Any preferences?"

"Excuse me." Came a voice.  "Cain called me over to ask me some questions, and I couldn't help overhearing.  You are looking for the Tomb of Tal Rasha?"

They turned around.  Firiel seemed to recognize the old man at once.  "Drognan!" she exclaimed. "Do you have any idea where the Tomb might be found?"

"No, but I believe I know where to look for a clue.  Somewhere nearby is the entrance to a place called the Arcane Sanctuary, an extra dimensional refuge for a great Mage.  His name was-" 

"Horazon." Interjected Shadera.

"By the Stars! An assassin!" Drognan exclaimed as he noticed who had spoken. 

"Yes," she said coldly.  "But don't let _that_ stop you, Mage.  You have information concerning Horazon's Sanctuary." It was not a question.

"Ah, yes, I do."  The old mage continued, somewhat nervously. "It is nearby, or at least, the entrance is.  Very possibly in Lord Jerhyn's palace.  He has told you of his problem? I believe he is ready to grant you entrance to the palace.  If he is, tell him you will be exploring the lowest levels of  the storage cellars. I believe they hold at least a clue as to the Sanctuary's whereabouts.  Once you find it, look for a journal.  The book is certain to have The Imprisonment of Baal mentioned in it."

"No, he has not." Said Firiel. "But if he is granting us access, and that is where we need to go, then I will speak to him.  When I return, I will expect someone to summarize what is going on."  She blinked out, with a small prickle of static to cover her disappearance. 

"Drognan, if you would please give us some privacy, we would like to discuss our next course of action amongst ourselves." said Rage.

"Oh, certainly.  I will return if I can find anymore information…though I thought I had something else to tell you…no matter, I will come back if I remember."  The red robed mage walked off, muttering to himself as he tried to remember what he had been about to say.

"Alright." Said Shadera once he had gone.  "So we ask Cain where to find this headpiece, and then go our separate ways.  Meet back here in well…everyone has a week.  If…if a group doesn't make it, the rest just have to forget about them and carry on.  We cannot linger more than a week.  Too much depends on it."

"We can't wait a week." Said Az'Ral flatly.  "Three, four days at the most  we can't stand around debating this!  As said, too much depends on us.  We have to go.  Before this night is over."

"Speaking of which," Darkangel said, "this isn't my homeland, but the night seems to be lasting awfully long.  Anyone else?" 

"Now that you bring it up…" said Az'Ral.  "You're right.  When I was young-"

"Necromancer, you're _still_ young.  Never forget that.  None of us can ever forget that." Iconnus broke in.

Az'Ral sighed wearily.  "I know my friend, I know.  But when I started out…first left Rathma, I felt so…unburdened.  Now I'm being tossed around, like a tree fern in a high wind.  Barely clinging…barely."  He snapped his head up and looked around with pain filled eyes.  So much loss.

"But never mind. That's neither here nor there.  When I still lived in Rathma, I studied for long hours underground.  My body unconsciously attuned itself to the sun's movements.  I always knew when I could break away from my work and she would be…I mean…uh, I always know where the sun should be, and right now…_she _should be right overhead.  Right overhead."

Shadera looked at him curiously, but said nothing about what the necromancer had implied.  When he was ready to let go of some of that pain, he would, and she knew there was nothing she could do to hurry that. "The Darkness is magical in nature, I cam sense that.  This is no natural eclipse."

"This changes nothing." Rage growled. "We still have three things to find, and three groups to find them with.  We go on as planned, and if we find out what is causing this, so much the better.  But this eclipse is not our concern."

"I believe it is, heroes." Said a gravely voice.  Cain's. "Drognan tells me that he too knows of magical eclipses.  He meant to tell you while he was talking, but he couldn't quite remember. Happens at our age, you know.  This 'night' has lasted for a day and a half, though you were all in the Halls and had no way of knowing it.  Strangely, this event is tied up in your search for Baal, because the headpiece to a Horadric Staff is found in a Temple of creatures known as Claw Vipers.  And it is they who are causing this eclipse.  How, we do not know, but if you find what you are searching for, you are likely to find out how to bring the sun's rays back to us."

"Foul magic!" cursed Rage. "To purposefully darken the skies so the sun cannot share her life-giving warmth and light with the world is unforgivable. Firiel and I will deal with this sacrilege, and bring back the headpiece at the same time!  This _is_ a concern to me now!"

"Well, that solves part of our problem." Said Darkangel. "But now, who will look for the Sanctuary and who squishes bugs?"

"I must admit, to look upon the legendary Arcane Sanctuary of Horazon is something I never thought I would have the opportunity to do." Shadera said thoughtfully. "If it is alright with you and Iconnus, and, of course, my fighting partner Az'Ral, I would like to look for the Sanctuary."

"This Sanctuary must surely be the product of a twisted mind." Remarked Iconnus.  "I am relieved that you have chosen to do this."

"And I have no objections." Said Az'Ral. "However, if you wouldn't mind taking this," he handed Darkangel a small corked bottle, "and collecting some maggot poison, I would be in your debt.  Either the blood or the saliva will do, if you have the opportunity to do it without much risk. But _do not touch it bare-handed!_ And try to keep it away from the Righteous Paladin's cleansing aura. That would ruin it."

Darkangel had somewhat of a doubtful look on her face as she took the bottle, but she agreed anyway.  After all, he _was_ a friend, albeit a strange one.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

            The party had been sundered.  Cain had helped the other two groups with the Horadric devices known as "waypoints."  These Waypoints teleported the two groups; Rage and Firiel, Darkangel and Iconnus; deep into the desert.  There they would split off and look for their quarries.  Az'Ral and Shadera were left, standing on the town's Waypoint and wondering if they would ever see the others again.  Az'Ral was startled to find how much he cared for his departed companions, especially Iconnus.  The relationship between the necromancer and the paladin had developed into something totally unexpected.  Something akin to friendship.

            But Iconnus was gone, as were Rage, Darkangel, and Firiel.  This was the point of no return.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            Az'Ral and Shadera had gotten Jerhyn's permission to enter his palace.  Now all that was left was to find their way down, either to the Arcane Sanctuary itself, or to a clue as to where it could be found.  The two companions followed Kasim, a palace guard who acted as their guide through the palace and its many rooms.

"H-here," said Kasim nervously.  He did not in the least like the idea of traveling with a necromancer and an assassin.  Best that he get them to the lower level and 'lose' them so he might get away.  Maybe off to _Atma's_.  Yes, _Atma's_ would be perfect.  Food, drink, women.  Something to help him forget this miserable duty he had been given…

"Here, what?"  The impatient assassin interrupted his pleasant reverie.  Damn her! "You have been leading us through this gods forsaken palace for _hours_.  I'm starting to get irritated. Where. Are. We."

Kasim gulped. "H-here, my l-lady. Where else? T-this door leads to the Harem's rooms.  Below them are several floors of storage.  N-now, if you could excuse me-"

"Hardly." Said the necromancer, grabbing his shoulder. "You come with us."

_By what right?!_ Kasim thought indignantly.  "I will not."  He said aloud. "I am not being paid for this. I will not come."

            Az'Ral's eyes blazed. "Yes, you will.  If I have to kill you and drag you along myself, I will.  But you _are_ coming."

            The little man gulped.  Shadera looked at Az'Ral.  Az'Ral glared at Kasim.

            Finally the mercenary broke under that simmering stare and pushed open the door.  Steps led into darkness.  He pulled a torch off the wall and started down.

            "Quite a bit of coercion there." Shadera remarked.

            "Pah.  I've had enough of that shifty little man. I'm going to kill him.

            "Are you really?"

            "Yes."

            "Why?"

            "He is as likely as anyone I've ever seen to betray us down there.  If he can save himself at our expense, he will.  But only if we keep him around.  I don't plan on giving him the opportunity to run out of here, or feed us to whatever creatures live at these lower levels."

            Shadera shrugged. "Good point."

            They walked down the steps to find Kasim and his light gone.

            "Hells.  You were right.  Still, I can find him.  Grab one of those torches back up there and let me meditate for a moment"

            Az'Ral obeyed, curious as to what she was doing.  Returning with the torch, he saw Shadera standing, arms out to her side. She was quietly muttering something under her breath.  Her arms moved in an arc above her head as her outline blurred…shifted. "Kai!" she screamed, and snapped her arms down to her side.  The assassin's outline broke off, a perfect duplicate.  A shadow of herself.  Her eyes opened suddenly, though her body stayed motionless.

            "Go," she whispered.  "Find him, and return to me."

            The Shadera-Shadow melted away, even more silent than its creator could have been.

            "Let's get going. She'll return to me and fade within a few hours, whether she has dealt with that mercenary or not.  If she returns without his blood then he has already been slain.  There is no need to concern ourselves with him any longer.

            _This_ was a side of Shadera that Az'Ral had not seen before.  If there had been any doubt as to why her kind were called assassins, it had certainly been erased.  Strange, the knowledge that she could kill so coldly did not unsettle him_.  She would kill you without qualm_. The dark voice spoke once again.  _No_, he thought.  _She is my comrade, it is why we fight together.  She has nothing to gain from my death, and no reason to kill me._

_            Yet._

_            I did not ask for your opinion._

The voice fell silent, its interruption far more unsettling than Shadera.  _I am imagining things.  That 'voice' means nothing. It is simply a darker side of myself, a side that gives in to darker thoughts.  Still, I thought I had buried it long ago._

            "Az'Ral?"

            Startled out of his thoughts, Az'Ral quickly focused his eyes on what was in front of his face.  Unfortunately, that happened to be Shadera's ample chest.  He snapped his gaze up to her face and tried to ignore her smirk.

            She laughed.  "Care to share your thoughts as we walk?" she asked.

            They walked in silence for several minutes as Az'Ral thought about it.

            "Yes" he said hoarsely.  "I need to talk.   This weighs heavily upon me. I…I feel as if it is eating away at my very soul, and I cannot explain it.  Can…can I trust you, to keep this a secret between the two of us?"

            "I am an assassin, my dear necromancer.  I am sworn to a life of secrecy."

            "Then I may take that as your oath?" 

            "Yes."

AUTHOR'S NOTES!

And so, we are finally finished with another chapter! Woo hoo!…I think.  Thank you all who have waited for this so long.  You guys are the best! Thank you all, once AGAIN, for the great reviews! Even though it's been so long.  You guys really ARE the best.  Funny, how when I write the Author's Notes I totally abandon italics as a way of emphasis. Just use capitals. Meh.  Random thought, I suppose.  Anyway, so in this chapter…I have almost no idea what we're doing.  Yeah, I admit it.  Basically I wanted to add a bit more of a time squeeze, but mostly set it up for a bit more on our beloved necromancer's past history. Soooo, if all went right, read on, and I'll see if I can clear up some of the mysteries! (Peh. Mysteries. What's she talking about?! We never cared about the CHARACTERS, just the fights. Common, yeah! The fights! Fightfightfightfight!) Ack! No you don't! Really, I'm on medication for those voices.  Working on getting rid of those guys…

Now that once again my subconscious has taken over the keyboard, it's time to get going with the typing! Oooohhhh yeah!

Take care all, and I promise I'll try to update more.

~~Qualinesti~~


	7. The Requisite Flashback Scene

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****

**Disclaimers:**Well, time to renew our vows and remind everyone that all I own are names. Az'Ral, Iconnus, Firiel, Shadera and…that's about it.  Really, I can't take much credit for Rage, and Darkangel is someone's account name.  Ariana, though the name only appears once, is mine as well.  Much of the storyline is Blizzard's, though I guess I do have claim to my view of Rathma. Oh! Nearly forgot. The character Az'Ria is actually a friend's.  She is writing a story that will parallel mine, and we'll use each other's characters.  We have no idea how this will work out, but we'll do our damndest! (ooh, I cussed! My bad) Sooo, now that I think I covered everything, let's get on with the fic!

Chapter 7 

            "I come, as you know, from the City of Rathma, a gathering place for my kind, and also a place of learning.  I do not know who my mother was, but that is the way of Trag'Oul's chosen.  My father was, I believe, a priest of great power, one who quickly mastered the arts of summoning.  Such were the expectations placed on me.

            "I did not live up to them."

            Az'Ral fell silent as the memories flooded back.  He and Shadera stopped walking.  She steered Az'Ral into a corner where they could sit.  After all, her shadow would find them anyway, and there wasn't a lot they could do until she returned and they were certain that the mercenary was dead. Az'Ral continued his tale.

            "I was, in general, a quick study.  I mastered with ease the use of poisons, and was nearly unsurpassed in bone magic by the time I left.  Summoning, however…the trademark of my kind and our primary branch of study…I have had…problems with.  Skeletons are really not that difficult.  Almost anyone could summon them, if they could get over the moral block of animating dead corpses.  It doesn't take much energy.  The mages are a bit harder, but not terribly so.  Golems…golems always obey.  But the revived. Ahh, the revived, the pinnacle of our power. To release the soul, and be able to control the body is what we all strive for.  It is our final test, and a measure of our power.

            "And I cannot control that power.

            "The day of my Test came.  I faced off with another…his name I cannot remember.  We were to each revive one of the jungle creatures slain for that purpose.  The creatures would fight to the death, and the surviving creature's creator would be accorded the acceptance and recognition and of the City.

            "It took all of the willpower I had to bring my corpse back.  And more than I had to control it until the gong to start was sounded.

            "The creature burst from my control and attacked.  Not my opponent's creature, but my opponent himself.  He was…unprepared for it, as might be guessed.  No one had ever broken that rule before.  And so, I had lost.  I knew that already.  I could feel all that I had worked for shatter around me. Ah well, breaking further rules could not hurt me now, or so I believed.  My creature was draining me, and I could feel that.  It was more than a normal revived creature, and had I been able to control it, I certainly would have won.  But I could not, and my opponent's creature could not possibly hold it off.

            "I did what no necromancer has done before, in the Testing Arena or out.

            "Twin fire golems crackled onto the battlefield, both under my control. But I was on my knees, barely able to keep consciousness.  One simple thought was all I had time for before I went into a kind of coma-like trance.  The Summoner's Trance, they call it. In that state, my minions were drawing freely off my life-force."

            Az'Ral chuckled dryly.

            "My hair has never been the same since.  These two black streaks are all I have left of my original color.  It was quite handsome, I'm told, when it was black.  Apparently I had a very nice shade. Ahh, but I digress.  I dimly remember coming out of the trance, and collapsing on the sand. I managed, barely, to life my head, and I saw that my golems had managed to destroy my creature. And they had both been destroyed by it in turn.

            "That was also when I saw her.

            "All thoughts for my opponent, for my reputation, for _everything_ fled when she locked her silver eyes on mine.  Maybe it was just me, but she seemed to understand what had just happened.  We seemed to...connect somehow, and I knew I had to talk to her.  She could understand everything, if only I had the opportunity to explain.

            "But then, I lost consciousness."

            Az'Ral paused, his voice choking up, as he finally caught up with himself and realized how much he had said.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.  "I am talking far too much."

            "No," Shadera said softly, moving to sit closer to him. "I want to hear.  There is much pain, and an aura of something else about you.  It is powerful, but I am not sure it is a good thing. Please, it will be good for you to tell it to someone. You've never shared this much of your past with anyone, have you?"

            "No, I haven't."

            "Then continue, please.  I wish to hear more."

            Az'Ral nodded, and continued.

            "When I finally awoke, I found that I had been moved into a dark room that smelled very strongly of herbs.  I was lying on a table, which had apparently been rather hastily cleared.  Someone had taken off my breastplate and bone armor, and, looking around, I couldn't see it anywhere.  I had been moved into the City's component rooms, where we keep our herbs, potions, salves and poisons.  The rooms are also used as a place for the injured to recover, as healing is always close at hand.

            "Well, I had no visible wounds, and I felt much better since collapsing on the sands. I decided that staying there wasn't going to do me much good. I sat up, and after the dizziness passed was about to go looking for my armor…when the door was opened.  And she walked in.

            "It was her! The girl I had seen at the Arena.

            " 'Who are you?' I asked. 'I mean…what are you doing here? And why am _I_ here? I have things to do!"

            " 'Um…' she replied. 'I am Az'Ria Shahara, and I'm here because it's my job to organize these herbs and components. _You're_ here to recover.' She seemed very taken aback that I was even awake, much less speaking.

            " 'Well, I'm fine, and I'll be going now.  Where's my armor?' I said, irritated.

            " 'Your equipment is in the other room.' She told me, pointing out the way she had come in. 'But really, you should stay here.'

            " 'Look,' I said, as if explaining something to a small child. 'I've got a lot to do, and none of it can be done here.' I pushed past her, a bit rudely, I'll admit, and went into the next room.  I reached my things, but was overcome by dizziness. Not _quite_ ready to be up and about, I suppose.  I staggered, but never made it to the floor.  I looked to find Az'Ria holding my arm, steadying me. She sighed.

            " 'Where do you live?' she asked. 'Just let me help you there so you don't fall over, if you're so dead set on leaving.  If you collapse on the way you'll just find yourself back here.'

            "Well, how can I argue with a beautiful woman if she makes so much sense? I sure as Hell didn't want to spend _more_ time in that room.  She gathered my things, lent me some support, and became my only friend on that trip home.  But there was still the matter of my test.  I could come back in a year, after more studying, and try again.  But, even if I succeeded, would I be accepted? Still, I _had_ to do it again.  There was _no_ chance of redemption if I didn't. I explained this to Az'Ria. Hmmm…such a beautiful name.  So like my own.  Wonder how that happened? Ah well, our last names are different enough.  Ah, I digress once more.  Forgive me.

            "Anyway, I told her that I had things I had to do, alone, and I couldn't have anyone around.  She seemed to understand.  Hells, even if she hadn't, it wouldn't have mattered, since I was the only one in the City who knew where my crypt was.  There I could do all of my experiments in peace.  And I was definitely planning some good ones.

            "So, I would study during the day, and go visit my friend in the evenings."

            "Ah, so that _is_ what you almost said when we were talking about the eclipse." Shadera remarked. "You hinted, accidentally, I think, about more than simply knowing where the sun should be."

            "Yes, it was accidental." Az'Ral said. "I was thinking about her…and almost ended up voicing my thoughts. I barely caught myself, and evidently didn't cover it up very well. Still, this is not something I want the others to know about."

"I understand perfectly." Shadera assured him.

            "Good."

            "Alright. So time passed. Az'Ria and I grew even closer together.  We each looked forward to the few hours we spent together in the evenings, but I could never really open up to her fully. She always wanted to know how my 'studies' were coming, but I could never really tell her.

            "Because the things I did were things that you, as a Mage Hunter, would probably have had to kill me for. You would not have known me then. I was as cruel and ruthless as any corrupt mage.  My experiments became more and more dangerous as I first summoned dead spirits, interrogating, torturing, and sending them screaming into oblivion.  But still, no answers were forthcoming.

            "I moved on to torturing creatures from the jungles, finally killing and reviving them.  After these beasts came more intelligent beings, the Flayers.  Still, whenever I revived them, the little bastards managed to resist.  Soon I began summoning fire golems to protect me as I worked.  One at a time, of course. I have never summoned two since that disastrous Testing day.  After failing to get any answers from the Flayers or their Shamans, a lead I was sure would go somewhere, I decided to step it up a notch.

            "Don't ever tell Iconnus…but once I nearly hunted down a crusading paladin.  Truthfully, it would not have been difficult to subdue him with any of numerous poisons, bind him with bone magic, and keep him immobile in my dark lair while I practiced my art.  I would have done it, but for the wards around Rathma.  The City finished him before I got there."

            He looked at Shadera.

            "And that is the only thing that stopped me.  The poor, foolish knight never realized how lucky he had been simply to have been frozen in place and torn apart by ravening undead creatures.  I had grown rather…skilled at pain and torment, be it a spirit or living creature.  His time as my 'guest' would not have been pleasant.

            "So, is that enough for your Order to judge me corrupt and in need of removing?" asked the necromancer with a slight sneer.  In that moment, he almost hated himself, for what he had and had very nearly done.  But then, Hatred was such a _strong_ word…

            "Az'Ral." Shadera whispered, putting an arm around his shoulders and settling herself against him. "Know this. I am your friend, and your fighting ally. Though I have not known you for long, I would trust and follow you anywhere.  And although it _would_ normally be my duty to kill you now, simply because you have done and could do these things again…I trust you with my life, as you are trusting yours to me.  And if this sounds too sentimental for you, think of it this way: my main purpose is to stop the demonic corruption of the Three Evils from rising again. That means stopping the Three themselves.  You can help me with this, corrupt or not.  Besides," she said, kissing him playfully on the cheek, "I didn't help save you from saber cats just to kill you now."

            "You make a good point." Az'Ral said. "Still, I haven't gotten to what you would consider my worst of transgressions.

            "Oh? And these are?"

            "Demon Summoning.

            "As the weeks and months dragged by, and I still had nothing to show for my time, I began to get desperate.  This is where things take an enormous downward spiral. 

            "As it turns out, I'm far better at summoning demons than I am at the traditional necromancer's minions. Perhaps it was all the experience I had with spirits.  Whatever the cause, they came readily enough to my call…and blood, only to find themselves trapped in this plane.  Requests, bribes, sacrifices, and torture…_nothing_ helped me gain the power I so desperately craved. The demons I summoned became more and more powerful as I grew more and more desperate for answers. Their promises of vengeance became more and more severe.  Still, I laughed in their ugly faces, destroying some, pain wracking others.  Soon I was summoning the Venom Lords and Balrogs, the most powerful and dangerous demons of the Hells.

            "I was ready to take the final, fatal step in my search for power. One last demon, not as a source of information, but as a sacrifice.  Surely the combination of a Pit Lord and a bowl of my blood would be enough to attract the attention of one of Hell's lesser Demon Lords.

            "Surely, Azmodan would hear my call."

            Az'Ral paused for a moment, to let the implications of that chosen course of action sink in.

            "Yes, I was willing to bargain with the powers I'm now supposed to help destroy.  Darkly ironic, and quite amusing, if you _like_ dark ironies." Az'Ral looked at his well-worn boots, unwilling to meet Shadera's eyes.  He allowed himself a short humorless laugh. "Such a fool I was then." He said, looking up to his friend.

            "I would be forced to agree with you in this instance.  But it is a good thing that you can recognize that." Shadera added, a bit teasingly: "So you're still not beyond hope."

            "I'm glad to hear that," Az'Ral said, smiling for the first time.  "But now we get to the really fun part.  While I was having fun with the Balrogs and other demonic nasties, my experiments took longer than they normally did.  Consequently, I missed a few evenings with Az'Ria.  Consequently again, she decided to do something about it.

            "How she found out where my dungeon was…yes, it could be called a dungeon by now…was located, I will never know.  Perhaps she followed me one morning. Maybe I talk in my sleep. Trag'Oul only knows.

            "The important thing was that she walked in right as I was…ah…persuading…my newest capture to submit to me.  Certainly, it was about the _worst_ time to be interrupted, except maybe for the Summoning itself.  But she saw me at my worst, dark fire flickering across my imposing bone armor, not to mention the blue mist that writhed and coiled about my captive, and originated with my raised hands. That my eyes were probably flashing a blazing green probably didn't help.  I looked every bit the evil necromancer of legend.

            "It must have looked so...wrong, to her, walking in and expecting me to be sitting at a table.  Instead, here I was, standing, conducting the darkest of dark rituals.  How could that be the Az'Ral she knew? It couldn't. It wasn't.  I was totally absorbed in the spell, the torment, and ready to call to Azmodan.  Ready, in that moment, to promise _anything_. Ready to kill anything, or anyone for the demon that would soon be my master.

            All but for Az'Ria, then my only friend.

            " 'Az'Ral!' she screamed, shock and terror in her voice.  My name seemed to have been torn from her throat. A raw cry…a plea…for what?

            "She shattered my concentration as I was about to slash down on my wrist with my dagger.  As my concentration broke, so did the barriers and the hold I had on the Pit Lord.  Fortunately, I had not spilled any of my own blood, or there would have been far more to worry about than a single enraged demon.

            "Still, a single enraged demon was enough to knock me to the cold stone floor and put a long rent in my black metal armor. Ironically again, the dagger that would have doomed me now saved me. AzRia screamed my name again, and my fire golem jumped to my aid as I desperately fended off the demon's attacks. Fortunately for me, the Pit Lord had no weapon, aside from its claws and teeth.

            "I barely managed to parry with my forearm and dagger long enough for my golem to join in.  From there the fight became fairly one sided.  Distracted by my golem, the Pit Lord ignored me long enough for me to slash at its throat and stab its chest a few times.  I was aiming for its heart, but I'm not sure what I hit.  Nevertheless, the combined wounds from my golem and me were enough to finish it off. Its corporeal body faded back to the Abyss where it belonged.

            "Then, the adrenaline and relief at being alive faded enough for me to realize just what had tipped off the incident in the first place. I grabbed Az'Ria roughly by the shoulders.

            " '_What_ in the Nine Hells and the Abyss did you think you were _DOING?!?' _I shouted at her, practically slamming her into a wall in my fury. I was angrier than I have ever been before, or since. 'I _TOLD_ you, stay _AWAY_! What did you do?! Interrupted me in the middle of spellcasting! You nearly got me killed, and you nearly got _YOU_ killed!' I raged as I have never raged before, caught up in my anger at the opportunity lost.

            "It looked more like torture than spellcasting." Az'Ria said coldly.

            "And what would _you_ know of that? Have you ever tortured, ever _been_ tortured?!? How could you _possibly_ know?!' I yelled. 'What have you ever done besides mix potions?  What hardships have _you_ had?!? Don't talk to _me_ of torture, when you can't possibly know what you're saying.'

            "She began to shout back.  'You know that we can't mess with the planes! I don't know where you got that idea you can summon something that powerful, but you could have gotten ALL of us killed!

Not just me and NOT just you! Now let me go!' She said, struggling against the stone wall

" 'You wouldn't understand, you've never understood what I've been though, and you _NEVER_ will! I have to do this for myself, for you, for me!" I shouted at her. 

" 'No you don't!' She insisted. 'You're doing this for power! Look at yourself Az'Ral! Look at what you've become!' she said, tears streaming down her face. 

" 'How, how would you know what I've become! You've only known me a little while, yet you insist you know what's best for me!" I said, pressing her farther into the wall. Az'Ria flinched at the pain I was inflicting.****

" 'Let go of me Az'Ral' she stated calmly, eyes dry once more. 'You could have _told_ me what you were doing, told me why you had to stay away. I missed you, how could you expect me to stand by without knowing?'

            " 'Because,' I said coldly, slowly. 'I thought you were something that you're not.  I thought you to be a rational, grown woman with some amount of common sense.  But no. You are nothing more than a hysterical little _girl!_' I finished, screaming in her face once more.

            " 'And you care more for your work…your _torment_…than you do for _anyone_ else! You selfish-'

            " '_GET OUT!'_ I roared, interrupting her mid-sentence. '_GET OUT, and leave me alone!_' I shoved her toward the door.  Tears started to form once again in those dazzling silver eyes.

            'Then if you truly care more about your work, let it stay that way! I will leave you in the company of your blood, bones and demons.  Enjoy your work, and _burn in Hell!'_ she ran out, not really able to control the second onslaught of tears.

            "I sat heavily on the floor, and with a wave of my arm I dismissed my fire golem. I sat in thought for a while, trailing my finger in a small pool of blood.  Some of mine, shed when the demon clawed through my armor.  With that thought came the pain, and the realization of what I had just said and done. To my friend.  My best and only friend."

            Az'Ral's green eyes shimmered, as he blinked back tears of his own.  Shadera laid her head on his shoulder, understanding now the burdens and pain that this necromancer carried.

            "That…was the turning point." He said, voice quavering slightly. "It was then that I realized how far I had gone, and what I was capable of doing.  I was a danger, to my people, my City, and Az'Ria.   If she had been killed, or if I _had_ made a pact with Azmodan…how could I stay?  Knowing that I could do something like this again showed me how much of a danger I was.  There was really only one thing I could do.  Leave, and search for my answers elsewhere.

            "But first, I had to try to apologize. Az'Ria hadn't deserved any of the fire I had thrown at her.  Truly, she deserved my thanks, for she had saved me…and likely Rathma, from certain destruction.  I owed her that much, and I had to try to pay that debt, even if she rejected me on the spot.  It would have been well within her rights, and about as much as _I_ deserved.

            "However, before I went anywhere I would need to gather my things.  Money. Money I would need to book passage out of here, because I planned on getting as far away as I possibly could.  Armor, check…sort of.  I was wearing it, but I'd have to get it repaired, and there wasn't a lot of point in wearing it to Az'Ria's. Unless of course, she tried to sink a dagger in my spine, which I decided would have made the world a better place anyway.  So, moot point.  I stripped off my armor, and was soon wearing only a comfortable vest and gray pants.  I replaced the metal greaves I was wearing with my favorite pair of high black boots. Heh, I hardly went anywhere in the city without them.

            "Weapons. Can't go adventuring without those.  Well, I had my faithful dagger, and a few vials of poisons. What else could a traveling necromancer need?  Well…I would need a cloak, to hide what I am from the world at large.  That I would have to go home for. I didn't have any spare cloaks lying around my study.

            "So I gathered my gear and walked home, feeling the warm jungle air. I breathed deeply.  This could be the last time I would see my homeland.

            "I arrived at my humble abode and went straight to the storage shelves.  I pulled down my favorite cloak, the one I took with me on my jungle forays, and looked around quickly to see if there was anything else I would need.  Something sparkled from atop my table, so I walked over and picked it up. I remember chuckling to myself, yet another irony.  The thing I held was a pendant I had been working on in my rare free moments, mostly in the early, early mornings.  It was a dragon I had carved and shaped from pure white bone.  The detail was quite good, actually.  The creature curled around on its tail, wings folded to its back, so it was a nice round shape.  But what had sparkled and caught my attention was the emerald I had set into it as an eye.  I had meant to add another one…but now I was saying good-bye.  Well, decided to finish it off, and take it with me when I apologized to Az'Ria.  It _was_ supposed to be for her, after all.

            "So for over an hour I worked painstakingly on the pendant, making a hole for the small gem and fitting it in.  I even did a little spellcasting and shaped the bone more tightly around the emeralds, locking them in. I debated whether to carve any type of message in the back, but decided against it.  It would sound so cliché, no matter what I wrote. It was beautiful the way it was.  I clenched it in my fist as a got up to get the chain.

            "I lay for a long time on my back, holding the pendant by the chain.  I watched the dim candlelight flicker over the facets in the eyes, and outline the perfect curves.  Finally I put it down, sighing.  There was really no point in delaying and the sooner I left the better.  I decided to go ahead and leave the candles burning, since I expected to return in a short time.  For the very last time. 

            "And so I walked purposefully out my door, clutching the pendant to my chest.  To anyone who might have been watching, nothing would have seemed out of place.  Though I was nearly infamous in the City for my…weirdness, I frequently cast aside my armor and wore just the vest, pants, and boots when walking about.  The armor was really only for ceremonies, special days like the Testing…and while I summoned."

            Az'Ral paused to take a break from so much talking.  He looked to Shadera, and the two sat in silence for a moment. Finally, he continued.

            "I almost didn't do it, and was about to turn around and just get out of Rathma when I found myself at her doorstep.  _Well_, I thought to myself.  _Moment of truth!_

            "I knocked on the door.  A muffled 'Hmmm? Come in.' sounded from somewhere within.

            "I pushed open the door to find Az'Ria sitting at her table, an amazing amount of jars and herb components scattered on it. 'Uh…' she said, without looking up. 'If it's salve, just set it by the door there. That'd be good.'

            "I stood there with my hands clasped in front of me. 'Az'Ria…?' I asked, trying to say 'hello' and 'can you forgive me?' all in the same sentence.

            "She looked up at me, and her silver eyes widened. 'Az'Ral! What are you doing here?' she sounded more shocked than angry.  Maybe this was a good thing. 

            " 'Az'Ria…' I said, not quite sure where to begin now that I was actually there. 'I want to…to tell you something. I…I'm sorry.'

            "A flash of anger flew across her normally calm face. 'Are you _really_, Az'Ral.  The things you said I didn't take lightly.'

            " 'Az'Ria, please, if you could just try to listen to me…' I was almost ready to start begging.

            "She seemed to think about that for a moment, as if trying to decide if I was even worth her time. Finally she said, glancing down, 'I'm listening.'

            " 'I really am sorry...' I said. 'I know I overreacted there...but I was...just...'

            " 'Worried about me, were you? Az'Ral you have to understand you looked terrifying to me, I was sure that you were going to strike me down for being there.'

            " 'I know. I do understand. I would not have wanted to see myself as you saw me. But there _is_ no telling _what_ I would have done, which is _why_ I didn't want you there. Because...I care about...for… you.' Why was I hesitating so much! Gaaahh! This could not have sounded good to her ears.

            "Az'Ria smiled a bit "That's why I went looking for you Az'Ral, because I was worried. Because I cared for you.' She stood up and walked over to me, embracing me as hard as she could. 'I forgive you, Az'Ral' she said.

            "Music to my ears.

            " 'Then, will you trust me for a moment?' I asked, slyly, starting a smile of my own.

 Az'ria broke off from me to look me in the eye. 'Of course.' She said

" 'Close your eyes for me,' I smirked, I admit.  I did. Smirked the 'Az'Ral Smirk,' as she called it once. Evidently I do it a lot."

He demonstrated for Shadera's benefit.

"That _is_ pretty unique," she said, laughing. "You'll have to do that more often once we join back up with the others."

"That I will." He said, still smirking.

"Back to the story. She sighed, but closed her eyes anyway, probably wondering what noxious fumes I had been inhaling.  I leaned over her, and lifted up her long silvery hair so I could see what I was doing.  I fumbled for a bit with the small clasp, but eventually got it closed. I straightened the pendant, and let it fall to her chest. 'There,' I said.  'Take a look.'

"She looked down, and I watched her eyes widen as she lifted it to get a better look. 'Az'Ral…' she breathed. 'It's…beautiful.' She looked up, probably to see me grinning like an idiot. She smiled to. 'Thank you.'

" 'Az'Ria, you are far more than welcome.' I said sincerely. I owe you so much more….but I am glad you like it.' I returned her previous embrace, but this time it held for much longer. I leaned closer and kissed her. Almost to my surprise, Az'Ria kissed me back. She pulled away and smiled. 'You're one good kisser.' she said, starting to laugh.

" 'Thanks,' I said, smirking once more. 'I try so hard, you know.' I kissed her again.

"Suddenly, she broke off.  I looked quizzically at her, wondering what was happening. 'Az'Ral,' she said. 'I have something I want you to see.'

" 'What is that?' I asked, curious.  Where was _this_ leading?

" 'Close your eyes, and turn around so I know you aren't cheating.' She said.

" I did as she told me, saying, 'Ha, you just want me to close _my_ eyes like I had _you_ do.  What are you plotting?'

            " 'You'll see.'  I heard some noises that sounded like she was rummaging in a drawer.  Her footsteps came closer after a moment, and I nearly turned around. 'I'm warning you, she said teasingly. 'Don't you even _think_ about looking.'  I felt something cold and metallic close over my arm, and almost flinched away.  Az'Ria's footsteps moved back. 'There, take a look.' She said, repeating my earlier words.

            "I turned to face her and opened my eyes, looking down.  What she had placed on my arm was a golden tinted armband, with a coiling dragon etched into it.  I still wear it now, though it's under my chainmail. Here, I'll even show you."

            Az'Ral quickly undid the bone/metal breastplate he wore, and pulled off his dark chain shirt.  He unclasped the small band of golden metal and held it into the light.

            It was a beautiful piece of work.  The dragon that had carefully been etched into the metal wound its way around the band, its tail curling around the world: Trag'Oul, the World Serpent.  

I stared at it, unable to believe that she had done this for me. 'Az'Ria…' I said breathlessly. 'You...did this…for me? I…I will wear it always.'

"And so I have," said Az'Ral, slipping it back on and beginning to put his armor back on.

"I can see why," said Shadera, appreciative of its beauty "So much time must have gone into it."

"Yes. She had done this for me…and she cared about me.  That was something I could not truly say about anyone else in Rathma at the time.  Of course, there _had_ been lovers before, but…could they really have cared about me as much as Az'Ria did? 'Thank you, my friend,' I said, embracing her once more.

            " 'Oh, Az'Ral,' she said, wrapping her slim arms around me. 'I'm glad you came…but I have so much to do…and I'm _so_ tired.'

            " 'Az'Ria…have you any idea what time it is? Surely your work can wait till tomorrow.'

            " 'No, no, I'm fine,' she insisted. 'Just one more combination to try…then I'll rest.'

            " 'Oh no you don't,' I said, catching her. 'Not while I'm still here.' I picked her up and plunked her on the bed, laughing. 'Now I'm going to watch and make sure you sleep.'

            " 'Hey!' She cried. 'Get down here!' she pulled while I was off balance, and I tumbled onto the bed next to her.  'Az'Ral…' she said. 'I'm sure you have things to do…but stay here tonight, please?'

            " 'I will, but only if you promise to get some sleep.' I said, pretending to sound stern.

            " 'Hold me then, and you've got a deal.' she smiled.

            " 'Done.' I said, leaning against the wall, still sitting on the bed. She leaned into me, and I put my arms around her. I kissed her silver hair and said, ' I think I love you.'

            "She sighed and snuggled closer. 'And I you, Az'Ral.'

            "Those were the last words I've ever heard her say.  She fell asleep then, there in my arms."

            The necromancer sighed.

            "Then came the moment of reflection.  I didn't want to leave her.  I briefly thought of asking her to come with me in the morning…but then I looked down.  I knew she would have said yes if I had asked, but how could I? I couldn't take her from her life. No, I had to leave. And it would be best that I go without any warning, sooner rather than later.  Sooner was now."

            Az'Ral looked to Shadera.  "And so, I left her there, sleeping peacefully. I couldn't say goodbye…at least, not in person.  After a day or so, she would surely go looking in the City for me.  So I could leave something of a farewell note at my home.

            "I went came to my living quarters to find the candles I had left burning barely hanging on.  I quickly relieved the current ones of duty and appointed to new ones to take their places.   Soon I had my poisons and dagger tucked away, and my cloak over my armor.  Time to go.  I would have to wait and get the armor fixed later.  The last thing to do was write the note, which turned out as more of a poem.  Hmmm, I still know how it went:

'When the dark path stretched before me

And all the ways were overgrown

I stepped where I should not have stepped

Where no light has ever shone.

I did not believe…I could not see!

Although you came to me that night

When my dawn seemed to be forever lost…

I could not leave the Darkness without fight

Turn your thoughts to your own path

Let your heart now be free

But when a dark night seems endless,

Please, remember me.

And now a mountain looms before me

Climbing steadily, ever higher

But I will trek on until the end

Through cold ice and blazing fire

Az'Ria…remember me'

            "I left it on my table where it was sure to be found when she came looking for me.

            "And then I was off, running through Rathma's aboveground streets towards the dark jungles.  I picked my way through the tangled forest, avoiding what creatures I could, and arrived in Kurast on the second day.  My time there was really not exciting. I got my armor repaired by a queer man named Hratli, and bought a few more poisons from and even queerer fellow known as Alkor."

            Az'Ral stopped, laughing at the memory. "Someday, you'll have to come with me to Kurast. We'll see if he remembers me, or if he says the same thing to _every_ necromancer who walks by."

Shadera nodded, smiling.  "Could be fun."

Az'Ral continued. "So, good as new and a bit lighter in the purse, I booked passage across the sea.  I wandered for a few months before hearing tales about 'the dead walking', and a greater mummy named Radament.  I believe you know the rest."

"In the sewers beneath Lut Gholein you met Rage and Firiel, and a few days later, Darkangel and Iconnus. Then me." Shadera finished for him.

"Exactly so.  And here I am, telling my failures and darkest, closest kept secrets to an assassin while out to stop a Greater Demon Lord from Hell from freeing his brother, also a Greater Demon Lord.  Now if _this_ isn't a bard's tale, I don't know what is.  What the Hell happened to my life!?! All this little adventure needs to be complete is for Az'Ria to walk in."

Shadera lifted her head from his shoulder and asked, "Do you think you still love her?"

Az'Ral met her smoky, dark-eyed gaze. "After all these months, you mean? Truthfully…I'm not sure if I can.  She may have found someone else by now.  Four months is enough time for feelings to be dulled.  I just don't know.  I will likely never see her again, as she is back in Rathma.  Even if I do return from this insane quest someday, that day is so far into the future that she will move have moved on.  I will always wear the band, to remember our friendship, but I told her to let her heart be free, and perhaps she has. But I still love the memory of her, and I cannot let that go."

"I understand that," Shadera said.  "Just be sure you do not let this past pain interfere with what we do now.  You know how important this is."

"Yes, now more than ever.  After the fight we had with the saber cats I had a …dream, I think, though it seemed so real.  But then, most dreams do, while they're being dreamed.  Still…it was…disturbing." He told her about the dream, wherein the Prime Evils had appeared, though he decided not to say anything about the dark, whispering voice.  After all, he wasn't truly sure that the two were even remotely related.

"That sounds very unusual," Shadera said thoughtfully. "I think it was a warning, and a reminder that we had best get going."

"Still," Az'Ral said. "It seemed…more, somehow.  Mephisto almost seemed to be offering me the power I so desperately craved four months ago."

"Hmmm…Az'Ral! Wait!" Shadera suddenly brightened.  "Here, look through this book and tell me what it says." She pulled a small, battered book from somewhere on her person and handed it to Az'Ral.

He took it and thumbed through a few pages curiously.  His eyes widened.  "Where did you find this?" he breathed. "It…it looks like a journal…it has diagrams and notes…on reviving creatures!"

"I thought it might." Shadera smiled. "I followed you down to Radament's lair and looked around after you and Firiel killed it.  I found this book.  I sensed something odd about it, but couldn't quite place my finger on it.  When I flipped through it, it seemed to be a sensei's journal, showing stances and proper balancing techniques.  I'll wager that if you gave this to Atma's cook it would have recipes for maggot pie and better ale!"

"Shadera…this is truly a treasure…no matter who holds it."  Az'Ral turned through another page, suddenly becoming very excited. "There! Surely this is it! Shadera…I _need_ to kill something.  I have to try this.  I'm sure it's the key!"

The assassin laughed. "Well then, let's get going," she said, standing.  She helped Az'Ral to his feet. "My Shadow will return soon, but she will find me no matter where I am."

"Then let's hurry!" said Az'Ral excitedly, tossing the book back to Shadera. "This _has_ to work! I _know_ it will!  Oh, if it does I cannot thank you enough!" Az'Ral stopped suddenly, a weird expression on his face. "By Trag'Oul.  I sound like I did when I raised my first skeleton, when I was nine.  Please slap me.  Nevermind, I'll slap myself." He threw a huge hug over his friend, and she returned it with equal enthusiasm.

Then she laughed, and ruffled his short hair.  "Then let's find out if it works, and if it does I'll owe you a drink."

Az'Ral smirked. "Deal." 

And so, Qualinesti finally finds a way to write in the infamous Book of Skill. Yay!  Well, this is by far my longest single chapter, with the Author's Note part topping page 11, I think.  Well, when you're on a roll…

 I meant to have this published on the 17th of June, which would have been exactly one year from my first publishing date.  Alas, FF.net had issues again, and I couldn't.  So I've gotten this up as close to The Date as I could.  But hey, two chapters at once isn't too shabby, so I'm happy!  Ah yes, random thought time. I just had one.

Donde estan mis pantalones?

Where _are_ my pants? I really don't know.  Right now I have my brother's boxers…ooh, bet _that_ was a bit too much information…

Anyway, I love all of you who have reviewed. (especially with criticism, it helped me a lot)  and if anyone else wants to review, I'll love you, too.  And I'll read your stories, if you have some up.  I always go look at the people who read my stuff.  Ah, and if you read that hilarious crap story of mine, _Diablo Endorses Diablo II_, be sure you have a dictionary handy.  I do not provide definitions for all those words.   I may actually update that one with some limericks, though they weren't the limericks I turned in.  Anyway.

Ah yes, I promise that if you e-mail me, I WILL get back to you.  I don't know who I've replied to or not, but my inbox is so horrible I will never know.  Well, enough about my Chaotic and Disorganized habits.

See ya all around. Catch me on Yahoo messenger sometime….

~~Qualinesti~~

Maybe someday I'll actually write that DragonLance fic I first set out to do…


	8. Turning Points

**CHAPTER 8**

Disclaimer: "Please tell me you've had enough."

"Uuggghhh!" exclaimed Firiel disgusted as Rage's overzealous swing spattered claw viper blood all over her. "Rage! Now, I'm not normally one to complain, but could you _please_ tone down the force of your decapitations? Both my clothing and myself would greatly appreciate it."

"Oh so sorry, my dear," said Rage with laughing sarcasm. "I will do my utmost to remember for you, sweet one." He took a solemn bow.

"Agh! Why you!" Firiel threw a punch at Rage's armored chest in mock outrage. The barbarian calmly ignored her as he wiped off his sword and casually tossed the bloody rag at her. He turned to regard the glowering sorceress and smiled. "You're beautiful when you're angry, you know that?" 

Firiel grinned evilly. "I'll show you angry…" she said, as her hands began to glow.

Rage's eyes widened as he pretended to be terrified. Then he laughed… and quickly ran away when Firiel released her fireball. He turned a corner, yelling, "I think I'll go _this_ way… I just know there's a way down over here…"

* * * * * * * * * * * * 

Meanwhile, Darkangel knelt beneath the shattered jaws of a rock worm; carefully directing a glob of saliva into the small bottle Az'Ral had given her. Iconnus stood nearby, letting his healing aura do its work. "There," She said, corking the bottle. "That should be enough for him."

"What does he want it for, I wonder?" Asked Iconnus.

"I don't know," Said Darkangel. "Before I was considered worthy of summoning a Valkyrie, Spirit Wing, I was charged with gathering all sorts of strange things from the jungles. Perhaps this is something akin to that. Though… why he would be here, hunting evil with us if he didn't not have his full power, I do not know."

"I do not think his purpose in coming here was to slay demons." Iconnus said, "I think that he was drawn into it somehow. I just cannot imagine a necromancer seeking out such a quest. But then, The Zakarum have never thought highly of necromancers." 

Darkangel thought about this for a moment, and remembered why _she_ had first set out. Back home on Philios, she had trained with her Sisters, and quickly risen in the Warrior's Ranks. She had completed her training and passed her final test, that of summoning the Valkyrie. It was then that she truly gained the favor of the gods, and her name was changed to reflect this. She had gained the right to change it and her name became more of a title from then on, unless she gave it up. This went for any amazon.

The Valkyrie accompanied her as her companion while she journeyed, an emissary and link to the gods' power, to help see her though this daunting task.

She and Spirit Wing had traveled together until they met Iconnus, on his crusade to prove himself. This was before the corruption of the Zakarum Faith. The trio roamed for a while, slaying demons where they could, before finding Rage and Firiel in the Northern Aranoch. They eventually made their way to Lut Gholein, and formed their plan to split off when they learned how serious the demonic corruption had become. 

Darkangel, Sprit Wing, and Iconnus made it to Kurast and were on their way to Travincal to seek out what was left of the Zakarum, hoping there might be some vestige left uncorrupted. It was then that Sprit Wing told Darkangel of Baal's imminent release, and they hurried back. There they found that they had acquired another party member for the road. Iconnus had felt more than uneasy around the necromancer, but Spirit Wing hadn't sensed anything really wrong with him. A twinge of something here and there, but it was small, and she didn't mention it to her amazon. So Darkangel had trusted Az'Ral from the beginning, casually dismissing the budding rivalry between him and Iconnus.

"Darkangel?"

She nearly jumped, startled out of her thoughts. "Yes?"

"Are you ready to get going? Or were you speaking to Sprit Wing again?" This last bit he added in a respectful, almost apologetic tone. He knew that Valkyrie to be something of the gods' influence, though maybe not directly from Heaven. But she was tangible example of otherworldly power, and therefore to be respected. 

"No, no I'm ready. I was just thinking about how we came to be where we are. Spirit Wing, are you ready?"

_Of course._

"She says she's ready. Do you have any idea where to look next?"

"I believe I saw a tunnel leading more or less downwards, a few turns back." Iconnus said, gesturing. "Shall we try that way?"

"Sounds good as anything. I've got Az'Ral's poison, so let's go."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Fascinating." Az'Ral said in wonder. "I _wish_ I had more time to study this bizarre dimension." He added wistfully.

"So _this _is the Sanctuary," Said Shadera. "Horazon's Obsession." 

The pair had battled their way down the Harem floors. There were two, and both companions silently wondered why there was a need for two whole floors of whores. But such things should probably not be asked, they decided, and neither mentioned their thoughts to the other. They did notice, however, and with some satisfaction, the clawed and torn body of Kasim along the way. Shadera's shadow had not been needed after all. After the Harem, they stumbled into what looked like the palace's storage areas. There were very few things of interest here, since it looked as if the demons had gotten every casket of wine in the place. Shadera found something that appeared to be another of Cain's "Waypoints", thought they didn't try it out to be sure. Az'Ral summoned a few skeletons for fun, but he decided to save reviving for something more interesting than the four-armed sand raiders. His excitement over the Book still burned strong, but if it worked, he wanted his first truly controllable revived to be something a bit more spectacular.

After three floors of empty and smashed boxes, things were getting slightly boring. Then they opened the door to one of the rooms, and found a glowing blue portal, like a shimmering tear in the middle of the air. They had been about to go through when Shadera noticed a shadow on the other side. That was then a group of the four-armed demons with flaming swords burst from the portal.

The fight that followed with fast and furious, and it was a relief when the last one—a particularly fiery specimen Az'Ral nicknamed "Fire-Eye"—finally fell, exploding and sending bone flying every where. Az'Ral had laughed then, loudly shouting, "I can do that too!"

Then ten seconds following that proclamation left six corpses in pieces, Shadera covered in gore, and Az'Ral grinning like mad. Five seconds later found the pair laughing on the floor and commenting on how morbid their sense of humor had become. Shadera wiped off her armor, and the two stepped through the portal. 

Four different paths stretched out into the twisting Sanctuary, while stars twinkled in inky blackness on all sides… even down. "Must be careful not to fall of the ledges," Az'Ral remarked, looking down. "Though I wonder… if, in a dimension like this...you might… sort of circle around, and… fall right back on to the walkway. Never mind. It's hard to explain and there's really only one way to find out. Let's not, and say we did."

"Agreed" said Shadera. "Now, shall we find something interesting to kill?"

"Yes!" Az'Ral's eyes lit up. "This way!" he randomly picked a path and ran along it. "Come on, come on, come on, come on, and come _on_!" Shadera sprinted quickly after.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Meanwhile, Rage had successfully dodged several fireballs and found some new corridors. "Firiel!" he called. "I think I've found where we need to go. These halls look like we haven't been through them yet."

"You don't say…" the sorceress said, coming up behind him and laying a finger on his neck. "Would you like to know what _I_ think?"

"Uh…I'm not sure…" Rage shifted uncomfortably.

"_Nizzre!_" she said, activating a spell. Electricity buzzed from her finger, shocking her companion. 

"Wha-? Ow!"

"I think, I got you." Firiel said in satisfaction.

Rage growled. "Mmmmmm…fine. _Now_ can we go?"

"Of course!" said Firiel sweetly, taking his arm. "Lead on, my brave, handsome barbarian warrior."

"Hey, now that's what started this in the first place!"

The sorceress did her best imitation of a barmaid giggle, and started down the corridor, swaying her hips in and outrageous mockery of a seductress.

Rage sighed, grumbled, shook his head, and followed. 

The pair found another slithering group of claw vipers, and left them behind on the floor, writhing in their own blood. Actually, the blood was Rage's doing. The cold water and chunks of ice were Firiel's. "This seems far too easy," said Rage as they stepped down a short flight of stairs. "There doesn't seem to be much of a challenge to this. It's actually getting pretty boring."

Firiel's eyes grew wide as she turned her gaze back to the room into which they were walking. "I think you may have spoken too soon." She said. Rage followed her eyes to the center of the room, where there stood a glowing altar. It seemed to shimmer, like sunlight playing off the surface of water.

But there was also a group of leering claw vipers, writing and hissing. The leader of the group had a strange, almost purplish color. Its body sparkled with electricity, much like Firiel's fingers had done. However, this beast would not likely be content with harmless static shocks.

"Firiel." Rage whispered quickly. "We have to keep that purple one busy until the others are dead. Then we can both concentrate on it."

"Right." She said. "_Inthuul'tril_!" Sparkling blue flecks of energy swirled around her like a shimmering snowstorm of azure crystals… 

"Aaaaaaiiiiggghhhhh!" Rage announced their presence fully with a rolling war cry that jiggled pebbles from the ceiling. "Foul demons! Taste my blade! Uh… blades!" He lunged forward, skewering one creature and leaping back as the purple viper took a swipe at him; an impossibly fast strike that he barely dodged. He felt the hairs on his arms rise in response to the crackle of electricity left in the wake of the attack.

"Firiel!" he yelled, leaping over the things head, nearly into the arms of another viper. Rage lost his balance and fell, fully expecting to die on the claws of three vipers… deep in some tomb, so far away from his homeland… he brought a blade up in desperation, hoping for a lucky parry.

Then a wave of cold washed over him. _So this is what it is like to die,_ he thought. "Rage!" he heard his name called, from somewhere nearby. _Mother?_ He wondered briefly. "Get up, bastard son of an ox! Hurry!" _Maybe not mother after all_… startled, he opened his eyes. Only inches away from his face and torso were they frozen claws of the vipers he had sworn would (and had) killed him. But not frozen for long. They began to flex, as the creatures started to thaw again. On instinct, he swung his sword in an arc, cleaving the serpents in two. 

"Rage!" Firiel called again, sounding half-desperate, half-angry. "If you're finished playing with your friends, _HELP ME_!" 

Rage looked up to see his friend pursued by the sparking serpent and a pair of others. Firiel managed to freeze the lesser serpents, but barely succeeded in slowing the leader.

"Hhhhhaaaagggghhhhhh!!!" shouted Rage, springing to her aid and shattering the two frozen vipers. He turned, shouting out his challenge. "Face _me_, demon! Answer to _me_ for what you have done here!"

The creature hissed in contempt that the human would even speak to it, much less, challenge it. "Annnd, will you faccce _me_, for what _you_ have done? You have ssslainnn my brothersss, human! And now, Fangssskinnn ssshall ssslay you, and sssave my massstersss the trouble!"

Fangskin seemed to have forgotten about Firiel, so intent was he on Rage. A mistake. Firiel nodded for Rage to keep the serpent busy, and he understood. He circled the claw viper, pulling himself between it and Firiel as she concentrated in her spell. It materialized a moment later as a wall of fire directly behind Fangskin, cutting off any retreat. He hissed, realizing that he had nowhere to run. Or slither, as the case may be. The creature launched a lighting fast lunge as Rage, and the two combatants were immediately on the floor, rolling and twisting. As Rage's swords were practically useless in the close wrestling match, the barbarian quickly abandoned them in favor of having his hands free. He managed to grab the writhing creature by what he guessed was its neck, and began to try strangling it. Fangskin wriggled, and used the power he had been infused with to send strong electrical pulses through the barbarian who dared try to harm him. Rage's grip loosened, and a quiver ran through his strong muscles. He fell back, and Fangskin took another slash, connecting and channeling more energy into the weakened human.

But now, Firiel had a clear shot. She took advantage of it, and hurled several bursts of chilling magic. "Deal with _me_, now!" she cried, hoping to distract the creature's attention from Rage. Fangskin ignored her, deciding to finish the fallen warrior and deal with the impudent woman afterwards. He twisted, raising his tail with its sharp sting over the center of his opponent's chest. 

"_NO_!" Firiel screamed, with such power that Fangskin froze, startled to look at her. "I am the descendant of Habacalva herself, and I will _not_ be ignored! Not by you, and not by any other! _Chath'ssin_! Hear my call!" 

A tremor ran through the floor, and a thin crack appeared. Flame spurted through it, accompanied by a veil of smoke. This cleared, leaving behind a fiery, three-headed beast with brilliant red eyes. The manes running from the backs of its heads flickered, and it slammed a flaming foot to the stone. It was a hydra, summoned from the depths of the world, created and wreathed in smoke and flame. The stone beneath its claws began to glow red with heat.

"We head thy call, Mistress, and come as we did for thy ancestor." It rumbled, in a voice like that of a volcano. It lashed its flaming tail, leaving ask and smoke behind. "How may we serve?" the hydra asked, though it knew the answer already.

"Attack." Firiel said icily, staring into Fangskin's reptilian eyes. "Attack, for the honor of Habacalva, and the life of my comrade."

"Done, Mistress." The hydra's great chest swelled, and its nostrils flared as it took a breath. It stepped forward once, and let loose with three blasts of scorching melted rock. These Fangskin dodged, barely, forcing him further from his fallen adversary. He hissed his displeasure, but knew there was little he could do against such a beast as this hydra. But perhaps, if he killed its summoner…he launched himself at Firiel, hoping to reach her before she attacked. He failed, miserably.

 Firiel loosed several swirling balls of ice, and the hydra whipped it's tail out to intercept the charge. Fangskin slithered back, scaled scorched and blackened by the intense heat. But what could he do? Attack, again and gain. Show that he was not weak, and perhaps the witch would tire. And if she tried using any ice spells while he was near her flaming dragon…well! The serpent shot forward again, dodging around the hydra's blows. But what Fangskin didn't know _did_ hurt him, in this case. It didn't occur to him that if the sorceress could summon fiery hydras and walls, she might have other fire spells at her disposal. She rained fireball after fireball on the pair of creatures. Fangskin let out an unearthly screech at the searing pain, stopping for just an instant. An instant too long, for the hydra caught up to him, snapping his tail up in on of its jaws. The viper shirked again, as the hydra pulled it closer to its flaming body. 

Firiel stood watching impassively as her fire beast finished its work. The hydra walked over to her, bowing its heads. "Thank you _Chath'ssin_," She said, reaching out with delicate fingers to caress a fiery jaw. The flames did not burn. No hydra could burn its Mistress. "Thank you. Go back to your home, and sleep in the fires. Warm yourself, and rest." 

The hydra nodded "Call again, if ever thou hast need of us, Mistress." It rumbled.

"I will, my beauty." She kissed it, feeling the soft tickle of the flames on her lips.  It faded in a cloud of smoke and departed back to its home. Firiel turned back to Rage, who was sitting up with the most interesting expression of awe and disbelief on his face.  His jaw hung down so far it looked as if it had been dislocated, and his eyes looked as if they would pop out of his head.

"B-b-b-….s-s-s-s…b-bu..buuaaa…g-g-g…a-a-ah?!"

"What?"

Rage tried again. "H-how long have you been able to…to do _that_?"

Firiel shrugged. "I have only summoned the hydra once before this.  Years before, when I was much younger. Before I met you."

"Oh, well.  That's…nice…to know…these things…about the people you've traveled with for, ohh…_three years_!! You never said _anything_!"

"It wasn't important until now."

"Humph." Rage grunted and turned his back on her, slightly irritated that she hadn't mentioned anything at all in the years they had been together.  She hadn't even dropped any subtle hints or hidden clues! If she had, he could have excused his ignorance with stupidity. He was stewing with these and similar thoughts when Firiel interrupted him.

"Rage, cheer up.  It's nothing personal.  The only people who know about it are the ones who have actually seen it.  I haven't tried to hide anything from you.  Besides, we have a job to do now, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

"What." He said, turning to find the sorceress at the glowing altar.

"The magic enchanting this altar is what's blocking the sun's light.  If you want to restore her warmth, we need to break the enchantment. Now-"

Rage brightened considerably. "Say no more, my Lady!" he said, as he crouched, preparing a huge leap into the air.

"RRRRRAAAAAAAAAUUUUUHHHH!!!!!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            "By all the gods, I hate these tunnels." Said Darkangel, brushing mud and slime off her no-longer-shining armor.

            "You think _you_ have problems," Iconnus said. "Look at me! My silver will be tarnished forever."

            Darkangel laughed. "How comforting it is to know that however bad things may be for me, you're suffering so much worse."

            "Yes. Ha ha." Iconnus grinned. "Still, it's my job as a paladin to help those in need." He reached out to help wipe the amazon's breastplate clean.

            "Oh ho! Such a _man_!" she slapped his hand away, laughing and shaking her head. Spirit Wing seemed to roll her eyes, if such a thing is possible. Her own chuckles echoed in Darkangel's head.

            "Alright, alright. Let's keep moving." Said Iconnus, still smiling. "You know about a paladin's Vows. Shame on you for thinking such!"

            "Shame on _you_ for suggesting such!"

            While the two humans had another good laugh over this, Spirit Wing sighed, smiled, and started down the tunnel.  Her light seemed the only clean thing in the place, though that was hardly surprising.  Her armor never seemed to dull, either. She _was_ sent from the gods, after all. The Valkyrie came to a fork in the tunnel and called for Darkangel.  She and Iconnus came quickly to her side. _Left or right? _She asked her amazon.

            Darkangel shrugged. "Left or right?"

            "Right" said Iconnus immediately.

            The other two looked at him in surprise. "Why right? How are you so sure?" asked the amazon. 

            "That which is Right and Good will always prevail."

            "That is so lame."

            "I know."

            "But it's expected?"

            "Exactly."

            "I see."

            The group went right.  They battled maggots and swarms of biting insects for what seemed like an eternity in the dark, slimy tunnels.  They went through many loops, forks, and passageways, checking through half-buried treasure chests. Spirit Wing found an earthen shaft leading still deeper into the sands.

            And time crawled on.

            A sense of deep foreboding hung over the trio, pressing down like the thousands of sand grains above them. Darkangel spoke, nervously. "What if…what if it's been lost, buried far beneath us? What if the tunnels have collapsed?" she whispered.

            "I don't know." Replied Iconnus heavily. "Cain mentioned something about other staves...perhaps we can go back, and he can tell us of another's location."

            "But, by then…we would be too late.  We've got three days to find our piece, before we're to meet with the others. We've taken one to get to the lair, and at _least_ half a day actually down here."

            "We should stop for a bit.  Take a rest, eat something." Iconnus said. "We're pressing too hard, I think.  We've got a day left, probably more. And anyway, I have this…feeling...that it's still here, and that we'll find it.  We're _meant_ to find it! I know we are."

            "Then why do I feel that something…'bad' is going to happen?"

            Iconnus shrugged, as well as he could in his armor. "Maybe it's just the gloomy atmosphere of these Gods forsaken tunnels.  We're probably just tired, cranky, and pessimistic."

            "That's what I keep telling myself, but-" _Darkangel! _ "Spirit Wing?!?"

            _Look._

            The amazon and paladin quickly got up and hurried to her side.  The Valkyrie pointed to something further down the tunnel.A sickly, poisonous green light could be seen, emanating from something at the back. But it was so hard to see…

            "Let's go." Said Darkangel, brandishing a javelin.

            "Carefully." Iconnus added, placing a hand on her shoulder.

            "Oh. Right." She said.

            _Let me lead_. Said Spirit Wing.

            "What? Why? What do you know?"

            _Let me lead_. The Valkyrie said again.

            "Spirit Wing says she wants to lead." Darkangel said to Iconnus.

            "Well...let her, I guess." The paladin replied.

            Spirit Wing nodded, and immediately started down the sandy corridor. The two humans followed, speculating as to what could make such an ominous glow.  They found out, moments later, as they came to the end of the tunnel.

            The three stood in awe; before them was the largest Worm they could have possibly imagined, attended by an ungodly amount of lesser maggots.  It was at least three times the size of the full-grown maggots milling about the chamber.  It could only be the Queen.  The creatures didn't seem to notice the party, yet.  But there in the corner…the Staff! It _had_ to be the Staff.  After all, normal staves don't hover in the air and glow.

            Darkangel and Iconnus stared at each other. "What are we going to _do_?!" whispered the amazon hoarsely.  "What can we possibly do against _that_?! It's got an army!"

            "We cannot win this fight…there are too many foes." Iconnus said. "We have little choice but to simply make a run for it."

            "I'll do it." Said Darkangel.  My armor won't weight me down as much as yours would.  Just…provide a distraction."  She took several deep breaths to center herself.

            But Spirit Wing had begun striding determinedly into the chamber.  The worms saw her immediately and attacked.  "Spirit Wing!" Darkangel shouted, hoping to warn her.  The maggots, excited by the idea of fresh prey, chattered uncontrollably and swarmed the Valkyrie.

            "No!" shrieked the warrior-woman, running, jumping, tying to get to her friend and guide. She jabbed and slashed, a fury of javelin points.  The maggots kept coming…Spirit Wing had been pressed against a wall, hurriedly fending off the clacking jaws of several maggots, trying to buy time.  Darkangel's vision was a haze of disbelief. Tears started to form in her eyes as she mindlessly waded through a sea of worms.  _Hold on, hold on! _ She silently pleaded.  Spirit Wing was backed into the corner…

_            Go! Go! _The Valkyrie cried in her mind.

_            No! Not without you and the Staff!_

_            He has the Staff, now leave me!_

"NO!" the amazon's raw scream was punctuated by driving her weapon's spear-point into a maggot's head. Another one took advantage of the opening left by its brethren's death and closed its jaws over her calf and shin, biting down hard.  The metal of the greave tore, and fiery pain shot through her leg. _GO!_ Spirit Wing cried again. The Valkyrie looked awful. She was cut and bloody, her shining armor rent and torn. _Go_…she pleaded once more, losing strength.  Darkangel fell, unable to support her weight as the wound fully registered. "I…_can't_," she nearly sobbed. She felt hands under her arms…Iconnus's hands.

            "Come on, get up! We'll fight together. I have the Staff." he helped the amazon struggle painfully to her feet, amidst the squirming maggots. She held her javelin in a death grip, clenching her teeth against the pain.  She tried to ignore the sensation of her own hot blood flowing down her leg as she prepared to throw.

            _LEAVE ME! FLY!_

            The Valkyrie's pain filled command seemed to resonate within the chamber, mental though it was. Darkangel winced.  Iconnus put a hand to his temple, astonished, for he had heard it as well.

            "No…" Darkangel said shakily. "I can't leave her!"

            "You have to! Don't let her sacrifice be in vain!" shouted Iconnus, and activated an aura of strength.  He felt her give in, but he hesitated at the exit to the chamber he looked back for a moment, and heard Spirit Wing's last, plaintive plea.

            _Go! Take her and go...please. _A brilliant golden light filled the chamber and tunnel, illuminating fully the squirming, biting mass of maggots and nearly blinding the onlooking paladin.  Darkangel seemed not to be affected, and her eyes widened as she realized was Spirit Wing was doing as her final act.

            "Portal, portal!" she shouted frantically.  She reached down and yanked a scroll from Iconnus's belt.  

Sand streamed from the ceiling as the golden light and energy became stronger still. A flash of white came, and the maggots recoiled as if thrown back.  It was then that Iconnus realized that they _had_ been thrown back. The energy being released at the Valkyrie's death was _that_ powerful. An angelic, humanoid form could be seen in the midst of the white light.  It seemed to look down sadly as the light pulsed brighter.  The maggots screamed at the invasion on their eyes.  A musical voice was heard, whispered through the keening wail of the maggots. "Go, Sister.  Live."

There was a final flash, and sand began to pour down like a tropical rain.  The chamber was collapsing, along with the tunnel beyond.  The room was plunged into darkness, save for the shimmering blue portal.

Darkangel, though she had known what was happening, simply stared at the blackness in disbelief, numbed with pain.  Iconnus shook her, saying "We've got to go!" but the amazon seemed not to hear. A look of resignation appeared on his face.  He held on to Darkangel tightly, and rushed through the gate as the chamber collapsed.

*   *   *   *

The change from dark, filthy tunnel to bright city street was brutal and unpleasant.  The hot sun baked down once more; _Rage and Firiel must have succeeded, but at what cost?_ Thought Iconnus. _Ours was too high. Not so long ago, I would not have thought so, but now_…He felt Darkangel shaking in his arms, and looked down. She was crying…tears slipped unchecked down her face.  She never cried… He hugged her as close as their armor would allow, unsure of what to do.  He was a warrior, dammit! And a paladin at that.  He had no idea how to comfort someone he cared about.  The blue portal abruptly winked out, its link in the maggot lair buried and destroyed. 

The two sat there in silence for a long time, and Iconnus was grateful that their portal had appeared in an alleyway, where no one could see them.  Finally the amazon opened her reddened eyes, and looked up at him. "Iconnus." She whispered, so softly he'd barely heard.

"Shhh." He said, putting a finger to her lips.  She was battered, covered in her own blood and the slime from countless worms.  She didn't need to be talking. "Here," he said, pulling out a glistening red potion.. "Drink this, and I'll help you to the Inn. Darkangel?" She had fallen silent.

 "Darkangel?!" he said her name again, bordering on tears himself. He shook her again, desperately. She whispered something he did not hear. "What?" he asked, relieved that she had spoken.

"Ariana." She said. "My name is…Ariana."

* * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * *

            "Moment of truth," Az'Ral said, voice quivering slightly.  Whether from excitement or fear, he couldn't tell.  Shadera put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  He turned his head and smiled. "Thanks."

            Checking the Book once more, the necromancer knelt next to the corpse.  It was that of a half man, half goat demon, who had formerly wielded a large, two-handed scythe. It had fallen with numerous slashing wounds, and blood pooled on the floor, dripping eerily off the walkway in slow motion. Az'Ral placed two fingers on the goat forehead, right between the wide spaced eyes.  His other hand trailed in some of the spilled blood, making rune like designs on the floor.  He began a slow whispering chant, one that sounded like whispers rustling through tree leaves on a dark, windless night.

            Shadera watched quietly, and a shiver ran down her spine at the sound of the necromancer's sibilant words.  Power began to build in the strange, silent air, as if the Sanctuary itself held its breath.  _Perhaps it does_, thought Shadera uneasily.

            "Flame of Night and Darkening shade, velau iy duril z'ress!" Wisps of shadow seemed to coalesce around the necromancer, forming a dark aura that flickered like an ethereal flame He held up one hand, blood dripping off the fingers.  His eyes seemed to momentarily flash a brilliant green, a flash that went by too quickly to tell if it had truly happened. 

            "Xuanil"

            The blood ignited into emerald flame with that last soft-spoken word.  Some dripped downward, liquid fire that burned out before it touched the floor.  Most, however, danced for a moment, illuminating Az'Ral's features and reflecting off his eyes before suddenly kindling in the goat man's sockets.

            The now undead creature rose shakily to its feet.  Az'Ral and Shadera watched, as its jerky movements became more fluid, as the rigor mortis that had begun to set in faded away.  It bent down, picked up its weapon…and stood, silently, at the ready.  The emerald fires in its eye sockets continued to burn with a fierce light.

            "Green…it has green fires in its eyes…" Az'Ral said softly in wonder.

            Shadera looked sidelong at him. "Is this...unusual?" she asked.

            "Well, no." the necromancer replied. "At least, the fires aren't really.  Most revived creatures have black, or at least very dark flames in their eyes.  It has to do with the energies gathered to summon them.  But when the members of the Council of Rathma raise creatures, their eyes have a red glow.  It's their trademark.  But never has any revived had green eyes."

            "Will it obey you?"

            "Let's find out," Az'Ral said, voice becoming grim.  He closed his eyes, establishing a mental link with his creature. "I…I think I have it."  He took a few steps forward.  The goat-creature followed.  A huge grin split Az'Ral's face and his eyes danced with happiness barely contained as he regarded Shadera, the one who had made this possible.

            "It worked." She whispered.

            **************************************************************************

Author's Notes!

            Okay, so I'm trying once more to fix the formatting errors here.  With any luck, this'll actually work, and I can get Chapter nine up within a few days.  If this doesn't work…well, I think I'll just go scream... long and hard.  But if it does, I'll update soon, and begin work on chapter 10. yaaay.  Then, I'll do the unthinkable and actually re-read and edit EVERYTHING I've put up here already!  'Cause I know I need to flesh out some characters and add a bit more detail.  Fun fun!

            Then we get to the really fun part, where I see if it's even possible to do a collaborative fanfiction joining when the two stories are already well on their way. Ahh Yiie.  Only time, and quite a few more sleepless nights like this one, will tell.

            So before I get to tired to even consider the coherency of what I'm typing…shoot, I forgot.  Damn, it's late.  Oh, whatever! Just update the damn thing already!  Good god, Qual, what the Hell is wrong with you?!?!

            Oh great.  Now I'm not only TALKING to myself, but I'm TYPING to myself.  Heck, I ought to have entire conversations this way…maybe alternating colors with little stars and sparkly gifs…

            Sock puppets!  Have you ever stopped to REALLY consider sock puppets?  I mean…my god!  Sock puppets!  Ingenious!


	9. Sanctuary

Chapter Nine

            It had worked.  Az'Ral could never remember feeling such a surge of elation at _any_ other point in his life.  With this success, this triumph, he could return home again.  To end this insane journey and return home, to…to what?  This victory was minor in the face of the events that had driven him from Rathma.  It couldn't erase his previous failures, wouldn't free him from his past.  I couldn't clear away the things he had done…and that dream…that voice….

_            Yes! You can't forget.  I am with you. I can help you._

            "No you can't. I don't need your help." Az'Ral growled.

            "What?" asked Shadera.

            "What?" echoed Az'Ral, startled out of his thoughts.

            "What did you just say?"

            "I said…'what?'."

            "No, before that."

            "…What?"

            It was too much. Shadera quickly realized the futility of trying to follow this conversation thread. She laughed, saying "Nevermind, let's just keep going."

* ** * * 

            A tremor ran through the Sanctuary; a pulse of energy like ripples in a pond at the necromancer's presence. It had felt the summoning, for it was a sentient thing, with an awareness all its own. The disruption of energy the power of the spell had brought was akin to a splash of ice water on a sleeper's face.   The Sanctuary and all of its awareness was linked to the mind of the mortal who had taken it as his own.

            The Summoner stopped, fully attuning himself to the Sanctuary's consciousness. 

            Intruders. It said wearily.

            "Who? How many?" the Summoner asked, startled that anyone could have breached his defenses. The Sanctuary was silent for a moment, as if considering how much to say.

            Two. came the reluctant answer.  A spellcaster, a necromancer. It fell silent.

            "And?"

            Silence.

            "You said there were two! Report to your Master!"

            The second is an assassin.  A Mage Hunter. the last word was emphasized scornfully. At this it was the Summoner's turn to fall silent. 

            "You," he finally said. "You let them in!"

            Your slaves are incompetent. 

            "_You_ are my slave! You must follow my command!"

            We shall see. The air grew still once more.  The Snactuary was required to follow the letter of its Master's command…but not necessarily his intent.

* ** * * 

            Help me! Free me!

            Az'Ral suddenly stopped walking, a dazed look passing over his face as he put a hand to his forehead. The necromancer stood there, staring strait ahead at the nothingness. Shadera started in alarm. "Az'Ral?"

            He didn't answer. "Az'Ral?!"

* ** * *

            But the necromancer was beyond his friend's distress.  This, his first contact with the Sanctuary itself required all of his attention.

            _Who…who are you? _He asked tentatively.

            I am as you see.

            _You're…what? _Az'Ral was confused.

            I am the place where you stand, the air that you breathe.  I am the Sanctuary.

            _You're...Horazon?_

            No, though I was once his ally. Horazon is no more. came the explanation.

            _How is it that I'm speaking to you?_

            I need your help. This simple answer did not really answer the question.

_            You want my help? Why should I do this?  And why do you need help in the first place?_ Az'Ral asked, intrigued by this…sentience.

            Because in return, you shall find the location of the Tomb which you seek. And I require help because I wish to be free.

            _Free?_

            I follow another's command.

_            And…the Tomb of Tal Rasha! How…how did you know?_ Az'Ral asked, slightly suspicious.

            My awareness stretches into the human palace, though I have no control there. I heard you speak of it to the Mage Hunter. it replied.

_            And...if I help, you will give us the information?_

            I will make sure you find it, yes.  I will direct you to it. the Sanctuary assured him.  Az'Ral paused to consider.

            _What must we do?_

*  **  * *

            Shadera was unsure of what to do. The necromancer had been unresponsive for several minutes now.  Surely it was no coincidence that this extended trance was taking place in the Arcane Sanctuary, home of the most infamous of corrupted Magi.

            She thought for a moment. Az'Ral had confided in her…many things had been said that he might not have normally said on his own.  She had helped the storytelling along in her own fashion, yes, but the facts remained.  The dark mage she traveled with had indeed been touched by the demonic.  Could it happen again? Was it happening even now? And wasn't it her duty to stop it?  

The assassin looked down at her hands, to the blades strapped to her wrists.  She could end it…without the indecision and possibility for error that came with allowing her companion to live.  She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, turning her back on Az'Ral. Shadera looked out at the expanse of shimmering, twisting stars, thinking; torn between what her mind told her and what her heart wanted. Longed for, even.

Her shoulders tensed suddenly as someone—Az'Ral—laid his hand on her. "Shadera?" he asked, sounding concerned. "I um…think I know which way we need to go now."

"Really." Said Shadera, turning to face him.  She was shaken by his timing, especially with the way her thoughts were turning... "How convenient for us. Did you have an epiphany while you were staring into space?" her voice dripped caustically with sarcasm.  She didn't appreciate being caught off-guard.

Surprise flickered over Az'Ral's face at her tone.  His features darkened suddenly as he spat back, "Basically." He turned his back on her and started down another walkway.

_Did he…somehow suspect my thoughts? _Shadera asked herself._ Impossible…isn't it?_

            Lost in her thoughts, she began to follow the necromancer, at a pace far slower than his had been.  And she wondered.

* *   **  * *

            Az'Ral kept going, guided by the Sanctuary's consciousness.  He stopped only briefly to raise the bodies of his fallen foes, hardly caring if they obeyed or not.  Shadera had him worried. He had known all along that traveling with a Mage Hunter could be dangerous, especially given his questionable past.  Why, _why_ had he told her so much? It had been his darkest moment, and he had told of it to an assassin.  It was something he had sworn never to speak, or even _think_ about, since he left Rathma. He had left knowing full well that he might never return.  That it was even _likely_ he wouldn't return. "But not," he said to himself, "Because of a Mage Hunter."

            He moved on, barely conscious of where his feet were taking him. His minions' numbers had swelled almost to that of a small regiment.  Swelled as his power grew.  Az'Ral stopped, looking over his creations. "And yet…with this power…I _could_ return home. Reclaim my rightful place, the place I should never have left." His gaze drifted to one of his revived creatures, to the green fires flickering in its eye sockets. "Yes…I have power enough for this."

            _Now you begin to see! See how easy it is! See the possibilities!_

            Az'Ral tried to ignore that voice. He was about to reply when the Sanctuary broke in to his thoughts.

            He suspects! Help me!

            "What?!"

            My consciousness has been divided between you and he! He…I cannot hold our link! I must obey his commands…help me…

            "Which way? Which way do I go?" Az'Ral demanded.

            Follow…follow this path. Hurry. Soon he will directly command me against you…I have been able to sidestep his orders…follow them merely to the letter.  But I cannot ignore a direct command!

            "I'm coming."

            The connection broke suddenly. The necromancer shook his head to clear his thoughts.  This was crazy! He took one step to continue before he froze, hearing a faint sound.  It sounded like…

            A call for help.

            His eyes widened as he recognized the words of that cry. "Az'Ral!"

            "Shadera!"

* *   **  * *

            Her world flipped as the Sanctuary twisted around her.  The air melted and blurred, and the marble beneath her feet ran like flowstone.  It hung that way for...seconds? Minutes? Hours? Who could tell? Suddenly, Shadera's reality snapped back, and she was dumped unceremoniously to the floor.  Her head spun as she tried to make sense of what was going on.

            "Well done, my ally.  But you did say there were two." Said a voice, speaking not to her, but to the air.  The assassin leapt to her feet, bringing her weapons up even before her eyes had completely focused on her surroundings.  She was not prepared for the surprise that awaited her when they did.

            "Horazon?"

            The mage standing before her laughed, and Shadera's eyes narrowed as she readied herself to attack.  "Horazon! No, I am not Horazon, though I do bear his likeness. It is good to know that the Mage Hunters recognize his face, however."

            "Soon your face won't be so recognizable, I'm afraid." Shadera replied calmly. At this close of a range, the mage might be able to get off one or two good attacks against someone.  Someone with good reflexes could probably close the distance after the first.  But Shadera's weren't good; they were excellent, and she knew it. She had time to talk.

            Unfortunately, with her attention focused on the false Horazon, the assassin didn't notice the wraith-like specters materializing behind her.  They hovered silently, ethereal wings making no wind to reveal their presence.

            "I beg to differ." The Summoner said in reply. "I have the entire Sanctuary at my command." He spread his arms to indicate the space around him.. "And it will take more than you, Mage Hunter, to unseat me from my Empire."

            "Well, then it's fortunate for me that I'm not all there is." Shadera replied. "Tell me where to find the Tomb of Tal Rasha, and we can bargain for your life."

            "Not necessary, I'm afraid," the mage retorted haughtily.  "You see, I'm not as alone as I first appear." He nodded to the wraiths, and Shadera spun just in time to watch them descend.  

            "Az'Ral!" she cried.

**  **  * *

            "Come back! Take me to her!" Az'Ral demanded frantically.  Trying to reach the Sanctuary was like slogging through mud.  He began to run blindly towards the sound of Shadera's voice. _Why did we split up? I'm not losing her now, not so soon after we've met!_ Az'Ral was almost startled about the turn his thoughts were taking for the assassin. Beautiful, dark, deadly.  A mysterious woman he knew practically nothing about, but had somehow been compelled to confide in. Shadera, the most intriguing person he had met in a long time…who had helped save his life…now needed him, and he wasn't there! _Do I…love her?_ Az'Ral wondered suddenly, stopping.  Az'Ria…he quickly shut down his train of thought.

"Act now, think later!" he admonished himself severely. He called out once more to the Sanctuary, hoping for an answer. "How can I help you if you don't help me?!"

Then there came the tingling warmth of the Sanctuary's touch. Come! She needs you!

Az'Ral crossed his arms indignantly. "That's what I've been trying to--" was all he managed to say before his world began to blur and shift.  He stood in wonder as the Sanctuary took hold of him.  Never before had he traveled in any way like this! Az'Ral was about to ask how the teleportation was being accomplished…when it abruptly ended.

* *   **  * *

The Summoner nearly jumped in surprise as the necromancer materialized less than twenty feet away, accompanied by several skeletal fighters.   The creatures did nothing, only stare, waiting for their master's orders. "How did--" The Summoner began.

Then he knew.  Realization struck like a dagger.  His Sanctuary! _Betrayer!_ His mind screamed.  The Sanctuary had no reply.  Horazon's Successor turned his attention from Shadera's fight with his wraiths to face this new threat.  There Az'Ral stood with his arms crossed like some disapproving teacher, his attention focused wholly on the false Summoner.

"I am told," he said, almost lazily. "That you have information I need."

"I may," the Summoner replied, regaining his composure. "What—"

            Az'Ral sprang forward before the mage could finish, dagger in hand.   The Summoner brought his staff in front of his body to block.  He succeeded, and Az'Ral fell back. "You're quick, for a mage." He said.

            "You're rude, for a necromancer." The Summoner replied.  "What kind of way is that to begin negotiations?"

            "My way."

            Az'Ral attacked again.  As the mage moved his staff to parry the dagger once more, Az'Ral connected with a heavy kick, forcing the weapon aside.  The Summoner's face twisted into a look of surprise as the dagger plunged in.  Somehow he managed to turn to the side, but the weapon still dealt a deep wound to his left arm.  Spinning backwards, robes flying, he summoned the energy for a spell.

            The blasts of chilling ice hit Az'Ral right in the chest, sending waves of cold blasting through his lungs. He staggered and dropped to one knee, unable to breathe. As he struggled to regain breath, the Summoner regained his own balance.  Az'Ral clutched one hand to his chest, eyes wide, as the mage stood over him, smiling.  Blue energy crackled over his fingers has he regarded his fallen foe. "It's all just too easy."

            "Too easy for me, you mean." Came a feminine voice.  The Summoner whirled as Shadera's weapons connected, raking deep wounds in his body.  The mage dropped to the floor, life's blood staining the Sanctuary's marble stones.  Blood bubble between his lips as he tried to choke out his final words.

            Shadera ignored the dying mage, focusing instead on Az'Ral, blue tinged and still gasping for air.

            "C-c-c-cold!" he said.

            The assassin dropped down, putting her arms around him.  He shivered at her warm touch.  "W-well!" he said. "That w-was…exciting." He smiled as he began to breathe more easily. Shadera nodded, taking a moment to rest.  Only then did Az'Ral notice how pale she was…the wraiths had taken a lot out of her. He stood up, keeping a hand on her shoulder. "Stay and recover your strength.  I'll find out where the Tomb is."

            Shadera didn't question how this would be accomplished.  She merely nodded again and left Az'Ral to his work.  He stood silently, seeking the Sanctuary's consciousness. 

            I have freed you.  About the information promised?

            I am not free yet.  Kill him, and your end of the bargain is fulfilled.

            Kill him? He's already dying.

            But he lives.  Only in death does he truly release me.

            Az'Ral sighed.  "As you wish." He muttered, picking up his dagger. He walked over to his fallen adversary, looking for the quickest way to finish it.  Then he noticed a glint of metal.  One of the Summoner's bloody hands clutched feebly at the hilt of a slim longsword, belted to his side.  The blade was unsheathed, and had a black tint to it.  It was almost as if the metal glowed darkly from within.

            "What is this?" Az'Ral whispered in wonder, captivated by the beauty of the dark blade. He knelt to touch it, running a finger down the length of it.  He noted that edge held a razor sharpness, without doubt the finest sword he had ever touched.  Az'Ral smiled.  "You won't be needing this, will you?" he said to the mage as he pulled it from the man's weak grasp.

            It is the Summoner's Blade. said the Sanctuary suddenly. Light and sharp, it is a nearly perfect blade for a mage.

            "Nearly perfect?" Az'Ral murmured.  "It _is_ perfect!"

            It is enchanted for speed, and carries an aura that disrupts the spirit.   This makes it especially potent on the summoned dead and demons, but still devastating to the living. It has, I believe, other enchantments, but my Master never discovered them.

            "And now I take it as my own." Az'Ral said as if in a daze. He hefted it in his right hand.  The weight was perfect, the balance without flaw.  It was if it had been made for him.  The necromancer stood, looking down once more at Horazan's Successor. He considered the dying mage for a long moment before plunging his new blade home, christening it with the blood of its former master.  One last gurgle, and the Summoner's reign ended.  The stone trembled, as if the Sanctuary were some great beast stirring to life.  Less than ten feet away, a pedestal appeared, holding a book.

 I give you, as promised, Horazon's journal. The Sanctuary said.  A shimmering portal the color of spilt blood rent the air beside the book. And the lost Canyon of the Magi.

            _Then you are free._

            Yes.  My thanks to you, necromancer.

            Az'Ral gave a mental nod and turned to Shadera, grinning.  "Mission accomplished." He said, helping her to her feet. "Onward, to the Canyon?"

            "Yes," she said, rising with him.  "Let's find this tomb and get back to the city." She took the book in hand, somehow already opened to the right page. The showed it to Az'Ral, moving her finger over an illustration with four points, much like a star. "This is it." 

            "Agreed." Az'Ral said, taking her hand with his left, still holding his sword in the right.  She placed the book back on the pedestal, and the two watched it fade back to wherever it had come.  They stepped through the portal together.


End file.
